Life happens - Just roll with it
by Don't-just-don't
Summary: Sequel to Things happen - Deal with it. Coraline Black, excited for the World Cup, and happy to be back with her friends at The Burrow, is about to begin her sixth year at Hogwarts. Little does she know, a few things have changed, and she's about to be thrown into the middle of them. A falling out with one of her best friends causes some of the hardest challenges she'll ever handle
1. Chapter 1

**Name**: Coraline Remy Black a.k.a Rodriguez

**Born**: May 3rd 1977

**House**: Gryffindor

**Wand**: Hawthorn, Phoenix feather entwined with Thestral tail hair, 11½ inches, rare

**Height**: 5'9

**Appearance**: Black shaggy shoulder length hair with green streaks, bright grey eyes, and nice face, Very beautiful, quarter Veela.

**Best Friends**: Fred and George Weasley, Lee Jordan, Charlie and Bill Weasley, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Cedric Diggory, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger etc.

**Special abilities:** Metamorphmagus, Aura (Turn into white smoke to travel), Animorphagus (Turn into any animal at will), Multilingual, Chaser on Quidditch team, playing any instrument she wants (Not really special ability just a skill), singing

**Animagus:** Black, shaggy dog

**Patronus**: Lioness

**Remember to read and review, or no updates at all. This is just a little info thing, but still review.**


	2. Chapter 2

Beginning of my Harry Potter story. Hope you enjoy and read and review. No update without a review.

Coraline sat on the staircase leading up to her room and waited for the startling pop! That would announce the arrival of her best friends. George and Fred Weasley had invited her to the Quidditch world cup a few days earlier, and she had been too restless and excited to do anything but wait. She had tried to occupy her time by playing around with her dad in their animagus forms, her dad a large black dog and her any animal she chose.

Her father, Sirius Black, the "notorious madman that murdered his bestfriends" was leaving the day after her, going to find a more secluded area that wouldn't draw attention to him or his family. Though he was innocent, the ministry and most of the world didn't know that and still believed him to be guilty.

And yet he was as happy to be leaving as she felt about it. He didn't want to leave three of the four people that make up his family, but he didn't have much of a choice if he wanted those three people to be safe.

Cora stood up and moved back up the stairs towards her room, going through her trunk again to make sure she had everything she would need for the rest of the holidays and for school. She would not be going back to her house once she went to the Weasleys, but would stay with her friends until the end of the holidays until she went back to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry for her sixth year.

She had everything but the things she would need to buy from Diagon Alley. She hadn't gotten her book list yet, those would come when she got the results for her Owl's. They should have come a few days prior, but given that only a certain few people knew where she lived, she wasn't surprised that it had gotten a bit lost. And speaking of owls.

"Cora, there's an owl here for you!" her aunt and guardian, Amber, called up the stairs. Cora dropped the pile of books onto her bed and ran out of her room and down to the kitchen, where Amber was standing with a letter in her hand. Once the owl beside her had seen that it had reached its destination it took off back out the window, gliding easily away.

Amber gave her the letter, and without a word, Cora tore into it, pulling the clean white piece of parchment out that had her Owl results on it. She unfolded it, her hands shaking in excitement, and read.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

Pass grades: Outstanding (O) Fail Grades: Poor (P)

Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D)

Acceptable (A) Troll (T)

CORALINE REMY BLACK ACHIEVED:

Astronomy: O

Arithmancy O

Alchemy: O

Charms: O

Defence Against the Dark Arts: O

Divination: O

Herbology: E

History of Magic: O

Muggle Music: O

Potions: O

Transfiguration: O

Cora gawped at the parchment, her mind reeling. She didn't fail anything. And along with that, as she was taking out the book list for that year, something small and shiny feel into her palm. She held it up so she could see then dropped it in shock. A Quidditch captain badge. Of course, Oliver Wood had left.

"Woh, you're Quidditch captain," Sirius said from behind her shoulder and she jumped around in surprise. He had a huge grin on his face as he yanked the piece of parchment out of her hands and read it over.

"Amazing! This is better then what James and I got," Sirius continued. "But we didn't take as many subjects as well. How did you fit this all into one week?"

"I had Arithmancy really late at night and Muggle music was first thing Friday and Monday morning," she explained and was about to say more when there was a loud Pop from her front yard. Cora smirked and stuffed the parchment and badge back into her pocket and ran upstairs to grab her trunk and pets.

She was just at the top of the stairs when she heard a shout and a bang. She was confused for a second until she remembered. Arthur and the twins didn't know about Sirius! She ran back down the stairs to see Amber and Remus standing in front of Sirius while Fred, George and Arthur had their wands pointed at them.

"Crap," Cora said, alerting them to her presence. The six of them looked at her and she smirked sheepishly. "You want to put your wands down," she said. Then added.

"Nice work hiding, dad." Sirius mirrored her sheepish smirk and held his hands up in agreement.

"Sorry, Corsa," he said, using his nickname for her.

"Would anyone like to tell me why Sirius Black is in your home, Cora?" Mr. Weasley asked, and Cora said.

"Because I'm going to explain to you right now." She started her whole story of what happened at the end of the previous year and watched as their faces went from shock, to anger, to surprise, to understanding.

Suddenly, Mr. Weasley stood up and moved towards Sirius, holding out a hand for him to shake.

"Well, Sirius, it appears you have been wrongly accused and that this Peter Pettigrew needs to be caught." Sirius shook his hand and nodded once. Cora stood up.

"Well, are we going?" she asked and Mr Weasley nodded. Cora walked over to Amber, hugged her and kissed her cheeks and did the same with Remus. She went to her dad, hugged him for as long as she could then as she pulled back she whispered "be safe," and he smiled, said he would, and kissed her on the head.

"Bye, guys," she said and picked her trunk and Broomstick up, along with Calypso, her fox. Demeter and Apollo, her owls, she had already told to go to the Weasleys. She went to move outside when a hand closed around hers. She looked up and smiled at George as he took the trunk from her. They went out to her front yard and they each wrapped a hand around Mr. Weasleys arm.

Cora waved good bye to her family, and with a turn, she disappeared, the feeling as if she were being squeezed through a rubber tube coming and going in mere seconds as she reappeared at the Burrow. She laughed at the sight of it and started forwards, wanting to say hello to Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Ginny.

But remembering, she turned and threw herself at Fred, squeezing the life out of him in a massive hug. She stopped when she heard him try and suck in a breath and turned to George doing the same with him. He picked her off the ground slightly and laughed as she struggled to get down.

"George," she whined. "Put me down." He laughed again and set her on her feet. She put Caly on down as well and they ran off towards the Burrow, excitement coursing through their veins. She burst through the door of their house and yelled at the top of her lungs. "GIIIIINNNNNNNNNNYYYYYYYYY!"

"What?!" the young red haired girl yelled as she came down the stairs. She stopped as she spotted Cora then squealed and ran over to her, embracing her in a sisterly hug. She dragged her upstairs to the floor with her bedroom, which was beside Charlie's old room and across from Fred and George's room.

When she walked into Ginny's room, she was surprised to see that there was already someone in there.

"Hey, Hermione," Cora said and hugged her too. Her bed had already been set up, so she flopped down on it and stretched her arms above her head, pointing her toes. She put one arm back down and pulled her Owl's sheet out of her pocket and handed it to Hermione, who read it eagerly.

"Wow, you did amazing," she said, then handed it to Ginny. She read it through then laughed suddenly as the Quidditch captain badge feel into her hand.

"Oh, Fred and George are gonna be so jealous," Ginny said as she threw the badge back to her. Cora pocked her tongue at her and went to stand when George and Fred appeared at the doorway with her trunk.

"What are we gonna be jealous about?" Fred asked as he set her trunk down at the end of her bed. Cora opened her mouth to talk when Ginny yelled.

"She's Quidditch Captain!" Cora glared at her and lunged, tackling her to the ground as they wrestled. Cora finally pinned her down and said in a strained voice.

"You just had to tell them, didn't you?" Hermione, Fred and George all burst out laughing at them as they got to their feet.

"Our little Cory is finally Quidditch captain," Fred said in a baby voice, wrapping his arm around her neck and trying to give her a noogie. She sighed and spun back from him to George. She jumped behind him and latched onto his shoulders, yelling that he had to protect her. She laughed and jumped off him, landing lightly on her feet.

"Is anyone else starving their ass off?" she asked as her stomach grumbled. George grabbed onto her hand with his and started pulling on her hand, leading her down to the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley was already there, moving her wand in a spinning motion over a big pan filled with what looked like beef stroganoff. "Dinner will be ready in an hour," she said as they moved down the stairs and Cora looked around to see who she was talking to.

"Bill! Charlie!" she called in surprise and a smile broke out on her face as they spotted her. She skipped up to them and they gave her a one armed hug, her in between them. They lifted her up and sat her on their shoulders. She clutched to their heads so she wouldn't fall and looked over at George who, to her surprise, looked like he was trying to cover up a glare that was directed at his brothers.

Mrs. Weasley kept glancing from Cora to George and she smiled slightly at the look on George's face. She had heard Fred and George talking about Cora one night while she was bringing laundry to their room and she couldn't help but overhear. George had been saying how much he couldn't wait for her to come over and then Fred started teasing him and saying he was in love with her.

Cora let herself fall backwards off their shoulders and used her hands to flip herself onto her feet, like she was doing a summersault off their shoulders. They chuckled in appreciation as she straightened up and she had to quickly morph away a blush at the way George was smiling at her, his eyes full of affection.

Cora blinked and shook her head, then walked up to Mrs. Weasley and asked if she could help. Mrs. Weasley left her with the job of cutting up the meat to fry for the stroganoff. Cora pulled out her wand and pointed it at the meat and it cut up into long bite size strips.

She looked over at the others and saw that Bill and Charlie were gapping at her, eyes wide.

"What?" she asked, confused at their expression.

"How come you're using Magic outside of school?" Bill asked and he pointed at the wand in her hands.

"Oh, I turned seventeen on May 3rd," she explained and their faces relaxed then hardened. Bill and Charlie looked at each other and something secret seemed to pass between them, because they both suddenly left with worried looks.

Cora wanted to asked what had gotten into them but a sudden bang from across the room caught her attention and she looked up to see Ron coming through the doors with clothes covered in dirt and a large sack of chicken feed in his hands.

"Hello, Ronald," Cora said, and he looked up in surprise.

"Cora, when did you get here?" he asked. Cora rolled her eyes and said.

"About, twenty minutes ago." She pointed her wand at the meat again and it rose and fell onto the frying pan. "It's finished, Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley thanked her and said she was finished needing help, so Cora made her way outside with George towards the garden. They kept walking, jumping over the fence and walking around the shed so they could get into the small wooded area that surrounded one side of the house. It was very secluded there, and no-one would be able to see them unless they walked into the forest themselves.

"Did you seriously not miss me?" George asked suddenly, and Cora cocked her head in confusion. "In your letter you said you didn't miss me at all, even though it had been a few weeks."

Cora stiffened in embarrassment and felt her hair go orange-purple. "Well, I kind've lied because I was in denial about how much I really missed you, and I thought telling you would just make it all the more real and painful." George didn't say anything to that.

They got about ten metres into the trees when George suddenly grabbed her and pushed her up against a tree, gripping her waist as he kissed her. She ran her hands up from his stomach to his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her up and pressed her back against the tree, one of his hands sliding down to grip her thigh

She bit his bottom lip slightly and he moaned and slid his hand around to her back, making her arch her chest forwards so she was pressed closer to him then she thought was possible. She laughed breathlessly as he pulled back for breathe then grabbed his chin and pulled him back in, kissing him softly as he let her slid back to the ground. She pulled back and smiled.

"You're an addiction," she told him.

"You should know."

She kissed him once more and grabbed his hand with hers, pulling him out of the forest. She stopped and turned to face him at the edge of the tree line. "How do I look?" She asked.

"Amazing as always," he said.

She laughed. "No, I mean do I look like I spent the last ten minutes making out with my best friend." George smirked and brushed his fingers through her soft hair, making her blush pink. She instantly morphed it away but did the same with her hair, making it change to a bright green in her joy.

He let his hand fall from her hair and lent forwards, softly kissing her with just a small brush of his lips. Cora sucked in a breath as he pulled away, amazed at how such a small kiss could be so tender and emotional. She licked her lips lightly and walked out of the forest, George following behind her.

No-one was in the kitchen when they got back to the borrow, but that was probably because Mrs. Weasley was chasing Fred and Bill around the house screaming about disrupting Percy while he was working and Charlie, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were outside playing Quidditch, which sounded better then listening to Mrs. Weasley scream.

"You want to play Quidditch?" George asked and she nodded frantically, running from the house and to the small field that they used for a Quidditch pitch. Charlie and Ginny were playing Seeker for each team and Hermione and Ron were trying to play Chaser. Cora and George stepped in so it was Charlie and Ginny as Seeker, Cora and Hermione as Chaser, and Ron and George as Beaters. Cora, Charlie and Ginny were one team while the others were the second.

Cora easily took possession of the Quaffle and scored before anyone really knew what was happening. Charlie and Ginny had already flown off high, searching for the beaten up snitch that they had. They only had one bludger and it was much slower than a regular one, probably due to its age.

Hermione was terrible, but not just at chasing. She couldn't get a good grip on her broom, and it kept making sudden turns when she wasn't expecting it. Also, the faster she went the more it would rattle and shake.

Cora had scored five goals before she realised that Hermione didn't have a single chance with that broom, and she flew over to her.

"Hermione, you can use my broom," she said, and Hermione looked at her in surprise.

"Really?" Hermione asked, and Cora nodded. Hermione smiled gratefully as they swapped brooms, and Hermione did much better now that she had a decent broomstick. But in the split second that she had spent making sure Hermione wouldn't hurt herself, Cora ended up getting hurt herself.

She heard her name being called out and had glanced up just in time to avoid getting struck in the face by the bludger, though it smashed right into her chest instead. She felt a crack in her body as a blinding pain coursed through her, and she fell to the side off her broom. No matter how old that bludger was, it still hurt like a bitch.

She tried to change into a different animal that could fly, but she could only do that if her bones were all proper, and she could only assume that she had broken a few ribs. And last she checked, Hermione was the only person close enough to catch her, but she probably wasn't good enough with a broom to make a sudden dive like that.

She only had enough time to turn so she wouldn't land face first when she hit the ground, her body bashing painfully against the grass. She tried desperately not to scream as the others landed around her, and George ran forward with shock written all over his face.

Cora lifted up an arm that was twitching in pain and pulled her wand out of her pocket, pointing it at herself, saying in her mind Episky, Brekilium, Mondo Dispersius, and Vulnera sanentur.

By the times the others reached her, she was practically healed all except for the dull throbbing in her body. She struggled to sit up and George put his hand on her back, letting her lean on him as he searched her for wounds with a frantic look.

"Ahhh," she moaned, "Broken boob," as she rubbed at her aching chest.

"Cora, are you okay?" Hermione said in a tearful voice. She leant down on her other side while Ginny, Charlie and Ron stood looking over her in worry.

"Son of bitch!" She groaned as she tried to shake off the pain. The others had started to laugh in relief when George said in a worried and angry voice.

"Who hit that bludger?" He looked at each of the others faces and stopped as his eyes landed on Ron's, who looked extremely guilty. George stood and pulled her gently to her feet, still glaring at Ron.

"You moron, why the hell did it you hit it at her when you could see she wouldn't have been able to defend herself?" George growled out as Ron flinched under his glare.

"I- I didn't mean it. I'm really sorry, Cora," Ron said frantically, trying to redeem himself.

"I'm fine, Ron. No harm done. It was just an accident." George was still glaring, so Cora quickly added. "George, can we go back inside. I want to make a healing potion." George nodded silently and turned her around back towards the Burrow.

He led her up to his room and sat her down on his bed. He was about to go off to find Mrs. Weasley when she wrapped a hand around his wrist. He stopped and looked down at her, and the look on her face told him enough.

He sat back down beside her and she wrapped her arms around his hips, resting her head against his chest. He put an arm over her shoulder and she relaxed her aching body against his, sighing deeply.

o.O

The next thing she knew, her shoulder was being shaken gently and a voice was saying something about food. She blinked her eyes a few times and stretched out, hearing a familiar laugh as George looked at her messy bed head. She rolled her eyes and grabbed George's offered hand, letting him pull her to her feet.

They made their way downstairs to the kitchen, where the other nine people were already seated, looking a bit crowded as they tried to get elbow space. Coraline and George sat in the only spare places, on the other ends of the table. They reluctantly split off, George sitting next to Fred and Mrs. Weasley, and Cora next to Bill and Charlie.

They all piled food onto their plates and it was all silent for a second while they started eating. That is, until Bill let out a very loud belch and everyone but Hermione and Mrs. Weasley started laughing.

"William, don't do that at the table," Mrs. Weasley shouted, and Cora joined in.

"And get your elbows off the table," she said.

"And don't chew with your mouth open," Fred added.

"And get a haircut," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I don't need a haircut," Bill said as the others started laughing. He sneered at them and continued eating then started laughing along as it got too funny. The only people that weren't laughing were Mrs. Weasley and Percy.

By the time the food disappeared from their plates and dessert was set out, a delicious mound of lemon meringue shooters, Mr. Weasley had stood to talk.

"Well, I'd just like to congratulate Coraline on coming of age, and how proud we all are of you," he said and raised his drink. The others did so too and clinked glasses as she morphed away her blush, and her hair changed in embarrassment.

She finished her desert quickly as the aching in her body got worse, and she excused herself from the table so she could go back up stairs. Everyone had finished anyways, but she still felt a bit rude going before everyone else.

She walked as slowly as she could without seeming in a hurry to her room, but when she got there she fell forwards onto her knees, coughing slightly as the pain flared up around her ribs. Probably forgetting that it was there from the pain relieving spell she had used, she had obviously forgotten to heal that one and it had gotten much worse.

She coughed again and something wet spilled onto her lips. She brought her fingers to her lips and looked at them, covered in blood… She had obviously punctured a lung. It was very annoying how she was accident prone

Growing frantic, she pulled out her wand and opened her trunk, pulling out potion ingredients to make the Wiggenweld potion, a brew that healed major wounds. She pulled her cauldron out and conjured up a small fire base, saying incendio in her mind to light it a flame.

She heated some salamander blood so it changed from dark to light red, then stirred it until it turned orange. She added more blood until it turned yellow then stirred until it went green. She kept doing this, adding and stirring, until it was red again, then she added five lionfish spines.

She heated it until it turned yellow again, then added five more lionfish spines. She added flobberworm mucus until it turned purple, and was just about to stir it so it went red when George opened the door and stared in surprise at her.

"What are you doing?" he said then moved towards her as he spotted the blood on her lips. Moving before it was too late, she stirred the cauldron until it turned red again. She added more flobberworm mucus as it turned orange then kept repeating until it turned yellow then orange. She added a few drops of Honeywater until it turned turquoise then stirred until it turned pink. She added more salamander blood until it went green then took it off the heat. It was finally done. She made a vial of it and was about to drink it when George held out a hand and told her to stop.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, and in answer, she pulled up her shirt and showed the angry purple-black bruise that stretched out across her side directly under her left breast. He sucked in a breath and moved his hand forward as if to touch it, letting his fingers brush lightly over her skin.

Cora watched him for a second then slowly lifted the potion to her mouth and drank, feeling the bitter yet satisfying taste course down her throat. They both stared at it as the colour slowly faded from eggplant to dark grey then green-blue then yellow until it completely disappeared.

George kept brushing his fingers over where it was, and she savoured the feeling of him touching her, running his fingers over her skin. She sighed as he suddenly pulled back, his face burning red. She wanted him to touch her again, wanted to feel his hands caress her body, but that was too much to ask for, and she stood to her feet without so much as a smile.

She flicked her wand and the rest of the potion filled into a number of glass vials and put them neatly in her potions box. She flicked her wand again and her cauldron cleaned out, her ingredients piling into it to save room.

George hadn't spoken or moved an inch, but he was still staring at her, and his face was slowly going back to its normal tan colour sprinkled with freckles. He seemed to be having trouble not looking at her with a completely taken look and she had to lean down and shake his shoulder to get him to come out of his daze.

He looked down and blushed deeper as he noticed how low cut her shirt was, and she leant back, pulling her shirt up a bit to give herself more coverage. It wasn't that she was insecure about her body, in fact she was pretty damn confident, but it was just that time, when she was alone with George, and anything could happen…

He got to his feet and smiled nervously, then lent down and pecked her lips, leaving her with tingling lips. She smiled slightly and packed the rest of her potion kit away, shrinking it down so it would fit in her trunk easier. She had finished packing her trunk by the time Hermione and Ginny walked in, talking about getting ready for bed.

They took turns having a shower in one of the three bathrooms and Coraline changed into her Gryffindor Quidditch Jersey and shorts. She morphed her hair shorter so it feel just below her chin and left the bathroom, walking down the small hallway to her room.

She reached the door just as the one across from hers opened and she turned to see who it was. And of course it was George, looking completely adorable in his shirtless state and boxer shorts. She gave him a small smile and opened her door entering her room and closing the door before she became too worked up by the sight of him and lunged at him.

Ginny and Hermione were already in their beds, so Cora climbed into her own and pulled out one of her muggle books, pulling out her wand and pulling her sheet over her head so the light wouldn't annoy the others. She thought lumos and pulled her book, Stephen King's Cujo, towards her. She flipped to her page and started reading.

She didn't notice the way time crept away and by the time she had finished the book, and was thoroughly freaked out, it was already four in the morning by her watch's standards. She put her book away and threw the blanket off her, putting her wand out. She lay down in her bed and tried to sleep, but images of dripping fangs and hot rancid breath coming from a foaming mouth kept leeching into her brain and the thought to not be alone overwhelmed her.

She got up, grabbed her blanket and wand, and left her room quietly. She tip-toed across the hall and slowly opened the door to the twins room. She closed it behind her and walked towards George's bed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and giving him a gentle shake.

He awoke slowly and when his eyes finally adjusted to the light he whispered Cora's name in surprise. "What are you doing in here?" he asked as he noticed the blanket in her hand.

"You have to let me sleep in here," she begged, and got ready to explain. But he didn't ask for an explanation, instead lifting the blanket up for her to climb under. She slid in beside him and rested her head on the pillow beside him. He, however, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and moved her forwards so her head was on his chest. She smiled and lightly kissed the spot over his heart, listening to the rhythmic beating as it lulled her into sleep.

o.O

She awoke around nine, which was lucky, because she had just enough time to get up out of George's bed, grab her blanket and wand, and slip into her own room. Just before Mrs. Weasley cam upstairs opening the doors and telling them quietly that breakfast was in ten minutes. She was a bit surprised to see that Coraline was already awake, but Cora told her that she was an early riser.

She didn't bother changing, but instead just walked down to the kitchen and sat at the table, putting her feet up on the chair beside her so George could definitely sit there. Mrs. Weasley had already piled heaps of Bacon, Sausages, Eggs, Hashbrowns, Tomatoes, Toast and all sorts of Juices and Teas onto the table.

Coraline yawned and pulled her legs up on the chair, resting her head on her knees. She waited for the rest of them to come down so she could start eating, and wished more than anything that she wasn't so crazy about table manners so she didn't have to wait for them.

Finally, she heard footsteps on the stairs and she put her legs back on the chair to save it for George. Hermione and Ginny appeared on the stairs first and they sat on the chairs across from her. Ron and Percy appeared next and Ron sat next to Hermione with Percy on his other side. Then Mr and Mrs. Weasley appeared as well and they sat at either end of the table.

Finally, George and Fred came down behind Charlie and Bill and Fred sat down on one side of her with Bill beside him. George moved forwards and pushed her legs off the chair, sitting beside her. Once they were all sitting, Mrs. Weasley let them pile the food onto their plates. Cora heaped the Hashbrowns onto her plate and speared a sausage and a few pieces bacon, along with some eggs, tomato and toast.

She couldn't believe how wonderful it tasted. Though she still believed that nothing could beat Amber's cooking, this was still in the top three, along with the Hogwarts food. She got a bit of each thing on her fork and put it in her mouth, chewing hungrily.

She sipped some of her black tea to help wash down her food and ate the last bite of her toast, waiting for the others to finish as well. Mrs. Weasley had told her that she didn't have to wait for them to finish before she left, but she felt it was only right to stay, considering Mrs. Weasley had made it.

Finally, Percy finished his last bite and set his fork down, and the others all felt comfortable enough to leave. They all stood at once and left, Fred, George and Cora splitting off to go do something. They didn't have much time until Mr. Weasley was going to get Harry, so they made the most of it, got ready in ten minutes, and went back outside to fling some gnomes.

There wasn't many at all, but the few that had managed to come back after their last flinging didn't put up much of a fight, and they managed to de-gnome the garden in under twenty minutes. Cora had flung the last one more savagely then the others as it bit her on the finger, and she felt satisfied in the way it yelled as it went.

Three of them went back inside just as Mr. Weasley announced that he was off to get Harry, and Ron, Cora, Fred and George immediately volunteered to go with him. So the five of them lined up outside the fire place and each took a pinch of Floo powder. Mr. Weasley went first, and Fred joined a few seconds later, then Cora threw her pinch into the fire, calling out "Number 4, Privet Drive."

A few seconds later, she appeared again, squished up against a wall alongside Mr. Weasley and Fred.

"Ouch! No, Cora, go back and tell George that we can't get through, there's no room," Mr. Weasley started to say, but was interrupted when the fire sprang up and George appeared, squished against them.

"Ouch! George, no, there's no room, go back and tell Ron-ˮ

"Maybe Harry can hear us, dad – Maybe he'll be able to let us out –ˮ Fred tried to say, and they all started hammering their fists on the boards blocking them from getting out.

"Harry? Harry, can you hear us?" Cora called out and they stopped hammering to listen. There was slight murmurings on the other side and then a voice close to them.

"Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?" Harry asked, and they sighed in relief that they weren't completely stuck.

Mr. Weasley whispered "Shh!" so he could hear better.

"Mr. Weasley, it's Harry… The fireplace had been blocked. You won't be able to get through here," he said.

"Damn!" said Mr. Weasley. "What on earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?"

"They've got an electric fire," Harry explained.

"Really?" said Mr. Weasley. "Ecklectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that… let's see…Ouch Ron!" Ron had come to join them.

"What are we doing here?" Ron asked. "Has something gone wrong?"

"Oh, no, Ron," Fred said, very sarcastically. "This is exactly where we wanted to end up."

"Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here," George said, though his voice was muffled, probably because he was pressed so tightly between the wall and Cora that he didn't have much room to talk, or even move.

"Boys, Boys, and girl…" said Mr. Weasley vaguely. "I'm trying to think what to do… yes… only way… stand back, Harry."

Suddenly, a ruff angry voice bellowed from the other side, "Wait a moment! What exactly are you going to –ˮ

BANG

The electric fire shot across the room as the boarded up fireplace burst outwards, expelling Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Ron and Cora in a cloud of rubble and loose chippings. A bony woman shrieked and fell over a coffee table, but the big man with lots of chin caught her in time.

"That's better," panted Mr. Weasley, brushing dust from his long green robes. "Ah – You must be Harry's aunt and uncle." He moved forward as if to shake his hand but the man started walking backwards, dragging his wife along with him.

"Er - yes - sorry about that," said Mr. Weasley, lowering his hand and looking over his shoulder at the blasted fireplace. "It's all my fault. It just didn't occur to me that we wouldn't be able to get out at the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see - just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Harry. Muggle fireplaces aren't supposed to be connected, strictly speaking - but I've got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel and he fixed it for me. I can put it right in a jiffy, though, don't worry. I'll light a fire to send them back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I Disapparate."

Cora was ready to bet that these people didn't understand a single word Mr. Weasley had just said, given that their faces had become even more confused and thunderstruck the more he talked. The woman had pulled herself up and hid behind the man.

"Hello, Harry," Cora said brightly, relieving the tension. "Got your trunk?"

"It's upstairs," Harry said, grinning back.

"We'll get it," said Fred at once. Winking at Harry, he and George left the room. They knew where his room was, having once recused him from it in the dead of night.

"Well," said Mr. Weasley, swinging his arms slightly, while he tried to find words to break the very nasty silence. "Very - erm - very nice place you've got here." Mr. Weasley was looking around. He loved everything to do with Muggles. Cora could see him itching to go and examine the television and the video recorder.

"They run off eckeltricity, do they?" he said knowledgeably. "Ah yes, I can see the plugs. I collect plugs," he added to Uncle Vernon. "And batteries. Got a very large collection of batteries. My wife thinks I'm mad, but there you are."

Uncle Vernon (I'm gonna call him that now: it's easier then calling him 'the man') clearly thought Mr. Weasley was mad too. He moved ever so slightly to the right, screening Aunt Petunia from view, as though he thought Mr. Weasley might suddenly run at them and attack.

Dudley suddenly reappeared in the room. Cora could hear the clunk of Harry's trunk on the stairs, and knew that the sounds had scared Dudley out of the other room. Dudley edged along the wall, gazing at Mr. Weasley with terrified eyes, and attempted to conceal himself behind his mother and father. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon's bulk, while sufficient to hide bony Aunt Petunia, was nowhere near enough to conceal Dudley.

"Ah, this is your cousin, is it, Harry?" said Mr. Weasley, taking another brave stab at making conversation.

"Yep," said Harry, "that's Dudley."

Cora, Harry and Ron exchanged glances and then quickly looked away from each other; the temptation to burst out laughing was almost overwhelming. Dudley was clutching his bottom as though afraid it might fall off. Mr. Weasley, however, seemed genuinely concerned at Dudley's peculiar behaviour. Indeed, from the tone of his voice when he next spoke, Cora was quite sure that Mr. Weasley thought Dudley was quite as mad as the Dursleys thought he was, except that Mr. Weasley felt sympathy rather than fear.

"Having a good holiday, Dudley?" he said kindly.

Dudley whimpered. Cora saw his hands tighten still harder over his massive backside.

Fred and George came back into the room carrying Harry's school trunk. They glanced around as they entered and spotted Dudley. Their faces cracked into identical evil grins.

"Ah, right," said Mr. Weasley. "Better get cracking then."

He pushed up the sleeves of his robes and took out his wand. Cora saw the Dursleys draw back against the wall as one.

"Incendio!" said Mr. Weasley, pointing his wand at the hole in the wall behind him. Flames rose at once in the fireplace, crackling merrily as though they had been burning for hours. Mr. Weasley took a small drawstring bag from his pocket, untied it, took a pinch of the powder inside, and threw it onto the flames, which turned emerald green and roared higher than ever.

"Off you go then, Fred," said Mr. Weasley.

"Coming," said Fred. "Oh no - hang on -" A bag of sweets had spilled out of Fred's pocket and the contents were now rolling in every direction - big, fat toffees in brightly coloured wrappers.

Fred scrambled around, cramming them back into his pocket, then gave the Dursleys a cheery wave, stepped forward, and walked right into the fire, saying "the Burrow!" Aunt Petunia gave a little shuddering gasp. There was a whooshing sound, and Fred vanished.

"Right then, George," said Mr. Weasley, "you and the trunk." Harry helped George carry the trunk forward into the flames and turn it onto its end so that he could hold it better. Then, with a second whoosh, George had cried "the Burrow!" and vanished too.

"Ron, you next," said Mr. Weasley.

"See you," said Ron brightly to the Dursleys. He grinned broadly at Harry, then stepped into the fire, shouted "the Burrow!" and disappeared.

"Now you Cora," Mr. Weasley and she moved forwards into the fireplace. She said in a bright voice.

"Bye, Dudley." He whimpered and she called "The Burrow" then disappeared, tucking her elbows in so they didn't hit the sides. She stopped spinning and walked out of the fireplace gracefully, brushing the little bit of soot from her dress.

Harry appeared next, and threw out his hands to keep from face-planting.

"Did he eat it?" said Fred excitedly, holding out a hand to pull Harry to his feet "Yeah," said Harry, straightening up. "What was it?"

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," said Fred brightly. "George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer. . . ."

The tiny kitchen exploded with laughter; Harry looked around and saw that Ron and George were sitting at the scrubbed wooden table with two red-haired people Harry had never seen before, though he knew immediately who they must be: Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Weasley brothers.

"How're you doing, Harry?" said Charlie as he stood up to shake Harry's hand, grinning broadly. Bill got to his feet, smiling, and also shook Harry's hand.

Before any of them could say anything else, there was a faint popping noise, and Mr. Weasley appeared out of thin air at George's shoulder. He was looking angrier than Cora had ever seen him.

"That wasn't funny Fred!" he shouted. "What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything," said Fred, with another evil grin. "I just dropped it... It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"You dropped it on purpose!" roared Mr. Weasley. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet -"

"How big did his tongue get?" George asked eagerly.

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!"

Cora, Harry and the Weasleys roared with laughter again.

"It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley shouted. "That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons."

"We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" said Fred indignantly.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git," said George. "Isn't he, Harry?"

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley," said Harry earnestly.

"That's not the point!" raged Mr. Weasley. "You wait until I tell your mother -"

"Tell me what?" said a voice behind them.

Mrs. Weasley had just entered the kitchen. She was a short, plump woman with a very kind face, though her eyes were presently narrowed with suspicion.

"Oh hello, Harry, dear," she said, spotting him and smiling. Then her eyes snapped back to her husband. "Tell me what, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley hesitated. Cora could tell that, however angry he was with Fred and George, he hadn't really intended to tell Mrs. Weasley what had happened. There was a silence, while Mr. Weasley eyed his wife nervously.

Then two girls appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Mrs. Weasley. One, with very bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth, was Harry's and Ron's friend, Hermione Granger. The other, who was small and red-haired, was Ron's younger sister, Ginny. Both of them smiled at Harry, who grinned back, which made Ginny go scarlet - she had been very taken with Harry ever since his first visit to the Burrow.

"Tell me what, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

"It's nothing, Molly," mumbled Mr. Weasley, "Fred and George just - but I've had words with them -"

"What have they done this time?" said Mrs. Weasley. "If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes -"

"Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" said Hermione from the doorway.

"He knows where he's sleeping," said Ron, "in my room, he slept there last -"

"We can all go," said Hermione pointedly.

"Oh," said Ron, cottoning on. "Right."

"Yeah, we'll come too," said George.

"You stay where you are!" snarled Mrs. Weasley.

Harry and Ron edged out of the kitchen, and they, Hermione, Cora and Ginny set off along the narrow hallway and up the rickety staircase that zigzagged through the house to the upper stories.

"What are Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked as they climbed.

Ron, Ginny and Cora both laughed, although Hermione didn't.

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room," said Ron quietly. "Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that . . ."

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things," said Ginny. "We thought they just liked the noise."

"Only, most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous," said Ron, "and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burned all the order forms... She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected."

"And then there was this big row," Ginny said, "because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop."

Just then a door on the second landing opened, and a face poked out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression.

"Hi, Percy," said Harry.

"Oh hello, Harry," said Percy. "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know I've got a report to finish for the office - and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."

"We're not thundering, "said Ron irritably. "We're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic."

"What are you working on?" said Harry.

"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," said Percy smugly. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year -"

"That'll change the world, that report will," said Ron. "Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks."

Percy went slightly pink.

"You might sneer, Ron," he said heatedly, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products that seriously endanger -"

"Yeah, yeah, all right," said Ron, and he started off upstairs again. Percy slammed his bedroom door shut. As Cora, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny followed Ron up three more flights of stairs, shouts from the kitchen below echoed up to them. It sounded as though Mr. Weasley had told Mrs. Weasley about the toffees.

**A lot's happened in this chapter, and a lot of them will be this long so look forward to it. Remember that if **_**you **_**don't review, **_**I **_**won't upate. Stay tuned for more of Coraline and George.**

**Lots of love.**

**~Althea**


	3. Chapter 3

**New chapter. Read and Review.**

The five of them made their way back down stairs when the screaming and shouting stopped, which had gone on for about twenty minutes. Cora was looking forward to see what the twins were like after one of their mothers screaming matches.

When they got down to the kitchen to help Mrs. Weasley, she said. "Where eating out in the garden. There's just no room for twelve people in here. Could you take the plates and cups outside, you two girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you three," she said to Cora, Ron and Harry, pointing her wand a little more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off the walls and ceiling.

"Oh for heaven's sake," she snapped, now directing her wand at a dustpan, which hopped off the sideboard and started skating across the floor, scooping up the potatoes. "Those two!" she burst out savagely, now pulling pots and pans out of a cupboard, and Cora knew she meant Fred and George.

"I don't know what's going to happen to them, I really don't. No ambition, unless you count making as much trouble as they possibly can..." Mrs. Weasley slammed a large copper saucepan down on the kitchen table and began to wave her wand around inside it. A creamy sauce poured from the wand tip as she stirred.

"It's not as though they haven't got brains," she continued irritably, taking the saucepan over to the stove and lighting it with a further poke of her wand, "but they're wasting them, and unless they pull themselves together soon, they'll be in real trouble. I've had more owls from Hogwarts about them than the rest put together. If they carry on the way they're going, they'll end up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office."

Mrs. Weasley jabbed her wand at the cutlery drawer, which shot open. Cora, Harry and Ron both jumped out of the way as several knives soared out of it, flew across the kitchen, and began chopping the potatoes, which had just been tipped back into the sink by the dustpan.

"I don't know where we went wrong with them," said Mrs. Weasley, putting down her wand and starting to pull out still more saucepans. "It's been the same for years, one thing after another, and they won't listen to - OH NOT AGAIN!"

She had picked up her wand from the table, and it had emitted a loud squeak and turned into a giant rubber mouse. "One of their fake wands again!" she shouted. "How many times have I told them not to leave them lying around?"

She grabbed her real wand and turned around to find that the sauce on the stove was smoking.

"C'mon," Ron said hurriedly to Harry and Cora, seizing a handful of cutlery from the open drawer, "let's go and help Bill and Charlie."

They left Mrs. Weasley and headed out the back door into the yard.

They had only gone a few paces when Hermione's bandy-legged ginger cat, Crookshanks, came pelting out of the garden, bottle-brush tail held high in the air, chasing what looked like a muddy potato on legs. Cora recognized it instantly as a gnome. Barely ten inches high, its horny little feet pattered very fast as it sprinted across the yard and dived headlong into one of the Wellington boots that lay scattered around the door.

She could hear the gnome giggling madly as Crookshanks inserted a paw into the boot, trying to reach it. Meanwhile, a very loud crashing noise was coming from the other side of the house. The source of the commotion was revealed as they entered the garden, and saw that Bill and Charlie both had their wands out, and were making two battered old tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other, each attempting to knock the others out of the air. Fred and George were cheering, Ginny was laughing, and Hermione was hovering near the hedge, apparently torn between amusement and anxiety.

Bill's table caught Charlie's with a huge bang and knocked one of its legs off. There was a clatter from overhead, and they all looked up to see Percy's head poking out of a window on the second floor.

"Will you keep it down?!" he bellowed.

"Sorry, Perce," said Bill, grinning. "How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?"

"Very badly," said Percy peevishly, and he slammed the window shut. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg and conjured tablecloths from nowhere.

By seven o'clock, the two tables were groaning under dishes and dishes of Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking, and the nine Weasleys, Cora, Harry, and Hermione were settling themselves down to eat beneath a clear, deep-blue sky. To somebody who had been living on meat she had caught herself all summer, this was paradise, and at first, Cora listened rather than talked as she helped herself to chicken and ham pie, boiled potatoes, and salad.

At the far end of the table, Percy was telling his father all about his report on cauldron bottoms.

"I've told Mr. Crouch that I'll have it ready by Tuesday," Percy was saying pompously. "That's a bit sooner than he expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think he'll be grateful I've done it in good time, I mean, it's extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the World Cup. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman -"

"I like Ludo," said Mr. Weasley mildly. "He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a bit of a favour: His brother, Otto, got into a spot of trouble - a lawnmower with unnatural powers - I smoothed the whole thing over."

"Oh Bagman's likable enough, of course," said Percy dismissively, "but how he ever got to be Head of Department ... when I compare him to Mr. Crouch! I can't see Mr. Crouch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what's happened to them. You realize Bertha Jorkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday to Albania and never came back?"

"Yes, I was asking Ludo about that," said Mr. Weasley, frowning. "He says Bertha's gotten lost plenty of times before now - though must say, if it was someone in my department, I'd be worried. . . ."

"Oh Bertha's hopeless, all right," said Percy. "I hear she's been shunted from department to department for years, much more trouble than she's worth ... but all the same, Bagman ought to be trying to find her. Mr. Crouch has been taking a personal interest, she worked in our department at one time, you know, and I think Mr. Crouch was quite fond of her - but Bagman just keeps laughing and saying she probably misread the map and ended up in Australia instead of Albania. However" - Percy heaved an impressive sigh and took a deep swig of elderflower wine - "we've got quite enough on our plates at the Department of International Magical Cooperation without trying to find members of other departments too. As you know, we've got another big event to organize right after the World Cup."

Percy cleared his throat significantly and looked down toward the end of the table where the twins, Cora, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting. "You know the one I'm talking about, Father." He raised his voice slightly. "The top-secret one."

Ron rolled his eyes and muttered to Cora, Harry and Hermione, "He's been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work. Probably an exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons."

In the middle of the table, Mrs. Weasley was arguing with Bill about his earring, which seemed to be a recent acquisition.

". . . With a horrible great fang on it. Really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?"

"Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure," said Bill patiently.

"And your hair's getting silly, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, fingering her wand lovingly." I wish you'd let me give it a trim. . . ."

"I like it," said Ginny, who was sitting beside Bill. "You're so old-fashioned, Mum. Anyway, it's nowhere near as long as Professor Dumbledore's..."

Next to Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Charlie and Cora were all talking spiritedly about the world cup.

"It's got to be Ireland," said Charlie thickly, through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Peru in the semi-finals."

"Bulgaria has got Viktor Krum, though," said Fred.

"Krum's one decent player, Ireland has got seven," said Charlie shortly. "I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was."

"What happened?" asked Harry from beside Cora.

"Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," said Charlie gloomily. "Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg."

Cora had been on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team ever since her second year at Hogwarts and owned one of the best racing brooms in the world, a Nimbus 2002. Flying came more naturally to Cora than almost anything else in the magical world, and she played in the position of Chaser on the Gryffindor House team.

"I just wish that the Thundelarra Thunderers got in," Cora said, thinking of her favourite Quidditch team from Australia. "It was too bad they tied with the Wollongong Warriors and didn't get in." The others made noises of agreement then went back to eating.

Mr. Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before they had their homemade strawberry ice cream, and by the time they had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table, and the warm air was perfumed with the smells of grass and honeysuckle. Cora was feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as she watched several gnomes sprinting through the rosebushes, laughing madly and closely pursued by Crookshanks.

Ron looked carefully up the table to check that the rest of the family were all busy talking, then he said very quietly to Harry and Cora, "So - have you heard from Sirius lately?" Hermione looked around, listening closely.

"He stayed at my house since the end of school," Cora said, "But he left today so the Ministry didn't find him and send us to Azkaban for harbouring a criminal."

Harry nodded and said that he had talked to Sirius twice.

"Look at the time," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, Cora, if you leave your school lists out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time."

"Wow - hope it does this time!" said Harry enthusiastically.

"Well, I certainly don't," said Percy sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred.

"That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"

"It was," Fred whispered to Harry as they got up from the table. "We sent it."

Cora had to clap a hand over her to mouth to keep from laughing as she dropped back to talk to Mr. Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley, I was wondering if you know when the apparation tests are." She asked him, and he looked at her curiously.

"You can go any time after the Quidditch cup until the summer holidays end," he said, then said. "I'll gladly take you one day when I go to work." Cora thanked him gratefully and speed up until she was beside Bill and Fred, who were talking about Fred's future job.

"Well, I think it's a fantastic idea," Cora put in as Bill threw an arm casually around her shoulders. Fred grinned at her as she continued. "They have some awesome ideas."

"Well, thank you Cora," Fred said. "If only mum didn't burn those order sheets then we'd still be able to sell them at school for a head start."

Cora smirked and they continued to talk until they reached their own rooms, to which they bid each other a goodnight and went to sleep.

o.O

Cora once again woke up before everyone else, and that was saying something considering it was only four in the morning and it was time for them to get up so they could get ready and eat before leaving for the Quidditch cup.

She got ready as quietly as she could and had the fastest shower in record times, quickly casting a silencing spell around the bathroom before going in. She showered quickly then dried herself with a spell, pulling her clothes on, a simple blue sailor dress, some red and white tights, a blue beanie and some blue flats.

She made her hair thick, black and messy in an organised way, and put on some light makeup, also letting her sunglasses hang from the front of her dress. She pulled a leather jacket over her dress because it was cold outside.

She left the bathroom and went back up to her room, grabbing her wand and her new book, another Stephen King one called Salem's lot. She went down to the kitchens and sat at the table, reading quietly as she waited for the others to wake up.

Not long later, Mrs. Weasley came down the stairs with Mr. Weasley behind her, and a few minutes later Fred, George, Ron and Harry came down. Mrs. Weasley looked curiously at her then shook her head, going to make some porridge for breakfast. George and Fred sat either side of her, laying their heads back on the table.

"What d'you think?" Mr. Weasley asked anxiously. "We're supposed to go incognito - do I look like a Muggle, Harry?" Cora looked up at him in his golf sweater, big jeans and thick leather belt.

"Yeah," said Harry, smiling, "very good."

"Where're Bill and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy?" said George, failing to stifle a huge yawn.

"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" said Mrs. Weasley, heaving the large pot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."

"So they're still in bed?" said Fred grumpily, pulling his bowl of porridge toward him.

"Why can't we Apparate too?"

"Because you're not of age and you haven't passed your test," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "And where have those girls got to?"

She bustled out of the kitchen and they heard her climbing the stairs.

"You have to pass a test to Apparate?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes," said Mr. Weasley, tucking the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans.

"The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a license. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done property it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves."

Everyone around the table except Harry winced.

"Er - splinched?" said Harry.

"They left half of themselves behind," said Mr. Weasley, now spooning large amounts of treacle onto his porridge. "So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they'd left behind..."

"Were they okay?" he asked, startled.

"Oh yes," said Mr. Weasley matter-of-factly. "But they got a heavy fine, and I don't think they'll be trying it again in a hurry. You don't mess around with Apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer brooms - slower, but safer."

"But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?"

"Charlie had to take the test twice," said Fred, grinning. "He failed the first time. Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?"

"Yes, well, he passed the second time," said Mrs. Weasley, marching back into the kitchen amid hearty sniggers.

"Percy only passed two weeks ago," said George. "He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can."

"Oh, don't act like you're not going to do the same thing," Cora said and everyone but him and Fred chuckled.

There were footsteps down the passageway and Hermione and Ginny came into the kitchen, both looking pale and drowsy.

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny said, rubbing her eyes and sitting down at the table.

"We've got a bit of a walk," said Mr. Weasley.

"Walk?" said Harry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No, no, that's miles away," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup..."

"George!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, and they all jumped.

"What?" George said, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What is that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!"

Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

Several small, brightly coloured objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand.

"We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

It was an unpleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find them all.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away.

"Oh a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!"

Cora didn't feel very happy about doing it, but as Mrs. Weasley continued to yell at the twins, she edged her way around the room until she was standing beside the bin under the table. She pointed her wand at it, concealed by her arm, and said Accio in her mind. The toffees flew out of the bin into her hand and she stuffed them into her jacket pocket, quickly conjuring up fake ones so Mrs. Weasley wouldn't notice the difference.

All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they took their departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.

"Well, have a lovely time," said Mrs. Weasley, "and behave yourselves," she called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer. "I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday," Mrs. Weasley said to Mr. Weasley, as he, Cora, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny set off across the dark yard after Fred and George.

It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. Cora, having been thinking about thousands of wizards speeding toward the Quidditch World Cup, sped up to walk with Mr. Weasley beside Harry.

"So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?" Harry asked.

"It's been a massive organizational problem," sighed Mr. Weasley. "The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up at the World Cup, and of course, we just haven't got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can't penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters. So we had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry's been working on it for months. First, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets have to arrive two weeks beforehand. A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can't have too many clogging up their buses and trains - remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there's a handy wood they're using as the Apparition point. For those who don't want to Apparate, or can't, we use Portkeys.

"They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed."

Mr. Weasley pointed ahead of them, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"What sort of objects are Portkeys?" said Harry curiously.

"Well, they can be anything," said Mr. Weasley. "Unobtrusive things, obviously, so Muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them ... stuff they'll just think is litter..."

Cora speed up again and made her way to the twin's side. She talked quietly so the others behind wouldn't hear her.

"You better love me forever," she said, as she shoved the toffees into their jacket pockets. They looked at her in surprise and identical grins broke out on their faces. That was when they noticed how she was dressed and they commented on it.

"Why are you dressed up so nicely?" George asked and she smirked jokingly.

"There's gonna be cute boys there, silly," she said and patted his cheek, turning her head slightly so she could wink at Fred, who smiled, catching on quickly.

George's eyes turned dark and he huffed, trying to shove down the feeling of jealousy and anger towards any other guy that would even try to talk to her.

They didn't have breath to spare for talking as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of grass.

"Whew," panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time - we've got ten minutes."

Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big... Come on..."

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it."

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed.

Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

"Hi," said Cedric, looking around at them all.

Everybody said hi back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.

"Hey Cedric," Cora said, moving forward and giving him a one armed hug. He smiled and looked down at her.

"You look lovely," he said, and she smiled at him with bright eyes. She heard a scoff behind her and turned her head to stare at George in confusion. Does he think that I didn't look nice?

"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.

"Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still ... not complaining ... Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy. . . ." Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Cora, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Cora, friend of the twins, Hermione, friend of Ron's - and Harry, another friend -"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Er - yeah," said Harry.

Harry was used to people looking curiously at him when they met him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead, but it always made him feel uncomfortable.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing against you last year... I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will... You beat Harry Potter!"

Harry couldn't think of any reply to this, so he remained silent. Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you ... it was an accident..."

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman ... but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"Must be nearly time," said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr. Diggory. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off ... We'd better get ready..."

He looked around at Harry and Hermione.

"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -"

With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the ten of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory.

They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop.

Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to Cora how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now ... ten people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting...

"Three. . ." muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, "two . . . one. . ."

It happened immediately: Cora felt as though a hook just behind her navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. Her feet left the ground; she could feel Fred and George on either side of him, their shoulders banging into hers; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling colour; her forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling her magnetically onward and then -Her feet slammed into the ground; George staggered into her and she fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near her feet with a heavy thud.

Cora looked up. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.

Cora untangled herself from George and took Cedric's offered hand. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly:

The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

"Morning, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; Cora could see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Arthur," said Basil wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some... We've been here all night... You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite... Weasley ... Weasley..." He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site managers called Mr. Roberts. Diggory ... second field ... ask for Mr. Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him.

They set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, Cora could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. They said good-bye to the Diggorys and approached the cottage door.

A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. Cora knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them.

"Morning!" said Mr. Weasley brightly.

"Morning," said the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," said Mr. Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr. Weasley.

"You'll be paying now, then?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Ah - right - certainly -" said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. "Help me, Harry," he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. "This one's a - a - a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now... So this is a five?"

"A twenty," Harry corrected him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr. Roberts trying to catch every word.

"Ah yes, so it is... I don't know, these little bits of paper..."

"You foreign?" said Mr. Roberts as Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes.

"Foreign?" repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," said Mr. Roberts, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley nervously.

Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change. "Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again.

"Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up..."

"Is that right?" said Mr. Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to him.

"Aye," he said thoughtfully. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" said Mr. Weasley anxiously.

"It's like some sort of... I dunno ... like some sort of rally," said Mr. Roberts. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

At that moment, a wizard in plus-four's appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Roberts's front door.

"Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

Instantly, Mr. Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted, and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. Cora recognized the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Mr. Weasley.

The wizard in plus-four's accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to Mr. Weasley, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."

He Disapparated.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," said Ginny, looking surprised. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," said Mr. Weasley, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit ... well . . . lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Cora could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

"Always the same," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us."

They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult... Muggles do it all the time... Here, Harry, Cora, where do you reckon we should start?"

Cora had been camping with Amber many times before she had started school, and she stepped forwards, confident that she could get it up with little to know help. She managed to find where all the poles and pegs went. Harry and Hermione helped as much as they could.

All of them stood back to admire their handiwork. Nobody looking at these tents would guess they belonged to wizards, Cora thought, but the trouble was that once Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, they would be a party of eleven. Hermione seemed to have spotted this problem too; she gave Harry a quizzical look as Mr. Weasley dropped to his hands and knees and entered the first tent.

"We'll be a bit cramped," he called, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

Cora bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and felt her jaw drop. She had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen.

There were crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs and a strong smell of cats.

"Well, it's not for long," said Mr. Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. "I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago."

He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water...

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," said Ron, who had followed Harry inside the tent and seemed completely unimpressed by its extraordinary inner proportions.

"It's on the other side of the field."

"Well, why don't you, Harry, and Hermione go and get us some water then" - Mr. Weasley handed over the kettle and a couple of saucepans - "and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?"

"But we've got an oven," said Ron. "Why can't we just -"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" said Mr. Weasley, his face shining with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

After a quick tour of the place, Mr. Weasley told Cora and George to go off and get some wood, handing them a very large axe and a saw, while he and Fred got some food together.

Cora and George waked off into the forest until they were a decent way in. Cora found a climbable tree, took the saw and axe from George, and heaved herself up a footstep, keeping on going until she slipped into a fork in the tree. She climbed along the skinnier one until she got close enough to the branches. She swung the axe at the branch until it was almost completely broken through, then she grabbed the saw and cut through the rest of it. She was incredibly glad that she had tights on.

It feel through the air and landed with a thud a few metres from George. Cora looked down to make sure it didn't squish him then moved onto another branch. That one fell and she started on the third and last. They were fairly thick branches so they would last the night and there would be enough for breakfast in the morning.

She climbed back down the tree and pushed off it when she got to the fork, landing gracefully on her feet. She looked over at George with a smile but it feel from her lips as she noticed his expression. He was staring at her with anger, guilt and desperation.

"What?" she asked in a trembling voice, and his eyes flashed to hers.

"I want to know if you like Cedric?" he said and her eyes widened in surprise.

"What! Of course I don't. He's like a brother to me. I don't see him that way," she said, defending herself. Then she realised what George was implying. She glared at him. "What, you think I'm just fooling around with you for fun? That I don't give a shit about you or our friendship? Because I give a great deal about it. About you and what we have, but I always thought that if we went out and it didn't work out then it would be too awkward for us and I would never see you again." She felt tears prick at her eyes as she continued.

"I thought you knew how I felt about you," she said in a quiet voice. "I thought you knew that I would wait for you forever if I had to. It's obvious that you wouldn't return the favour." She turned around, picked up the three branches and started walking off out of the forest.

"Coraline!" George said, and she turned on him.

"What?!" she yelled.

"You can't… You can't." he moved forwards and knocked the branches from her hands, throwing himself against her as he pressed his lips to hers. She didn't move her arms around him, but she still kissed him back, the tears finally curving around her cheek.

She pulled back from him, picked the branches back up, and ran from the forest, leaving George standing by himself, looking thoroughly heartbroken.

**Woah that escalated quickly. I'm not sure that chapter made much sense, but I'm too lazy to redo it.**


	4. Chapter 4

**New chapter. No review = No update. Simples **

George got back to the tent not long after her, so no one got suspicious, but she couldn't even look him in the eye after what happened. She was already missing his touch, wishing more than anything that they could just make up, or make out…

She shook her head to clear it and went back to cooking the sausages for lunch. Being the only one out of the eleven of them (Bill, Charlie and Percy had just arrived) that had been camping, she had a knack for cooking in the wild over a small fire.

"You've been ages," George said as Harry, Ron and Hermione finally got back with the water. Cora stood up quickly when they got back and cupped some water in her hands, going back to pour it over the sausages so they wouldn't be dry. They sizzled loudly and oil spurted out of the pan. A large drop of it hit her arm and she hissed, grabbing the spot on her arm where an angry red blotch was slowly appearing.

George was by her side in a second, his fingers brushing over the burn. She froze and looked up at him, her cheeks flaming red, which she quickly morphed away, not before he'd seen it though. Her hair went red-purple without her noticing, and George's lips twitched in the beginning of a smile.

She suddenly yanked her arm out of his grip and turned back to the food, her hair going black again, along with her eyes, leaving no whites to them. She pulled the sausages off the pan and onto a plate, then let everyone crowd around her with a piece of bread.

They were halfway through their sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them. "Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person Cora had seen so far. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, Cora thought), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"Arthur, old man," he puffed as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming ... and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements... Not much for me to do!"

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah - yes," said Mr. Weasley, grinning, "this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry - and this is Fred - no, George, sorry - that's Fred - Bill, Charlie, Ron - my daughter, Ginny and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, and Coraline Black."

Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he heard Harry's name, and his eyes performed the familiar flick upward to the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets -"

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first - I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years - and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a weeklong match."

"Oh ... go on then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see ... a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. "Very well, very well ... any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr. Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like -"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins - but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that," Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting... That's all your savings... Your mother -"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance... I'll give you excellent odds on that one... We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we..."

Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away into the front of his robes. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll. . ."

"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha ... memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh - talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just Apparated at their fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short grey hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush moustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished.

Cora could see at once why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great believer in rigidly following rules, and Mr. Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed for a bank manager.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barry," said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh is that what they're after?" said Bagman. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half-bow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes - thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George choked into their own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh.

"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artefact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," said Mr. Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve - but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman breezily.

"Fairly," said Mr. Crouch dryly. "Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr. Weasley.

Ludo Bagman looked shocked.

"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun... Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman.

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details -"

"Oh details!" said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts -"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!"

He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred at once. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said Mr. Weasley, smiling.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," said Fred.

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria - which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

Cora ran off immediately to buy a pair of Omnioculars, offering to buy one for Fred who was right behind her. Having spent all his money on gambling, he couldn't get anything, but she bought him one anyway and told him he wouldn't get any Christmas presents. George appeared behind Fred and she bought him one too, so the others wouldn't get suspicious and so he might patch things up with her.

Clutching their purchases, Mr. Weasley in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; Cora couldn't stop grinning. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though Cora could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, she could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr. Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's face. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again... bless them," he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets.

"Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Mr. Weasley's party kept climbing, and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Cora, filing into the front seats with the Weasleys, looked down upon a scene the likes of which she could never have imagined.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at Cora's eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, Cora saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burgler Buzzer ... Mrs. Shower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain! ... Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade...

Cora tore her eyes away from the sign and looked over at Harry, about to comment on the advertisements, but Harry was looking over his shoulder at the back row, where a small house-elf was sitting with her head in her hands.

"Dobby?" said Harry incredulously.

The tiny creature looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato. It wasn't Dobby - it was, however, unmistakably a house-elf, as Harry's friend Dobby had been. Harry had set Dobby free from his old owners, the Malfoy family.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" squeaked the elf curiously from between its fingers. Its voice was higher even than Dobby's had been, a teeny, quivering squeak of a voice, and Cora suspected though it was very hard to tell with a house-elf - that this one might just be female. Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Though they had heard a lot about Dobby from Harry, they had never actually met him. Even Mr. Weasley looked around in interest.

"Sorry," Harry told the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" squeaked the elf. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir - and you, sir -" Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

"How is he?" said Harry. "How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir," said Winky, shaking her head, "ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favour, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why?" said Harry, taken aback. "What's wrong with him?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir," said Winky sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?" said Harry.

Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying?" said Harry blankly. "Well - why shouldn't he be paid?"

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again.

"House-elves is not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," said Harry.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said Winky firmly, from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter" - she glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped - "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" said Harry, frowning.

"Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."

She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again. Harry turned back to the others.

"So that's a house-elf?" Ron muttered. "Weird things, aren't they?"

"Dobby was weirder," said Harry fervently.

Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again ... and again ... and again. . ."

"And that witch who keeps falling over," Cora muttered, then started laughing as she saw the look on the witch's face. She handed her Omnioculars to the person next to her and told them to look. They laughed quietly then handed the Omnioculars back, and Cora finally noticed that it was George.

Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet covered, tasseled program.

"'A display from the team mascots will precede the match,"' she read aloud.

"Oh that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend. They had met before, and Fudge shook Harry's hand in a fatherly fashion, asked how he was, and introduced him to the wizards on either side of him.

"Harry Potter, you know," he told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English. Cora moved forwards with a smirk.

"Това е Хари Потър," Cora said, and the Bulgarian Minister looked at her then Harry.

"Harry Potter ... oh come on now, you know who he is ... the boy who survived You-Know-Who ... you do know who he is -" Fudge said, not realising that she had just explained it to the Bulgarian minister.

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," said Fudge wearily to Harry. "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat... Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places ... ah, and here's Lucius!"

Cora, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned quickly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley were none other than Dobby the house-elf's former owners: Lucius Malfoy; his son, Draco; and a woman Cora supposed must be Draco's mother.

Harry and Draco Malfoy had been enemies ever since their very first journey to Hogwarts. A pale boy with a pointed face and white-blond hair, Draco greatly resembled his father.

His mother was blonde too; tall and slim, she would have been nice-looking if she hadn't been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr. - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other and Harry vividly recalled the last time they had come face-to-face: It had been in Flourish and Blotts' bookshop, and they had had a fight. Mr. Malfoy's cold grey eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How - how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Mr. Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. Cora knew exactly what was making Mr. Malfoy's lip curl like that. The Malfoys prided themselves on being purebloods; in other words, they considered anyone of Muggle descent, like Hermione, second-class. However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare say anything.

He nodded sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Harry, Cora Ron, and Hermione one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as he, Harry, Cora and Hermione turned to face the field again.

Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister - ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen . . . welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce . . . the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

"What are Veel -?"

But a hundred Veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry's question was answered for him. Veela were women . . . the most beautiful women Cora had ever seen . . . except that they weren't - they couldn't be - human. Now she knew where she got her obvious beauty from being quarter Veela, though her hair didn't fan out behind her and her skin didn't shine like the moon.

The Veela had started to dance, and everyone's mind around had gone completely and blissfully blank. Cora looked to the side and saw that Ginny, Hermione and Mr. Weasley were the only ones not under the spell. She looked to the side and, much to her surprise, George wasn't looking at the Veela, but at her.

"Harry, what are you doing?" said Hermione's voice from a long way off, and Cora turned from George to see Harry.

The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the Veela to go. Harry was with them; he would, of course, be supporting Bulgaria, and he wondered vaguely why he had a large green shamrock pinned to his chest. Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."

"Huh?" said Ron, staring open mouthed at the Veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field.

Hermione made a loud tutting noise. She reached up and pulled Harry back into his seat.

"Honestly!" she said.

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air . . . for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it - "Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Cora realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr. Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!" A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars. Cora quickly focused her own.

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; Cora spun a small dial on the side of her Omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to read the word "Firebolt" on each of their brooms and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a moustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. Cora spun the speed dial on her Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (Harry saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was Quidditch as Cora had never seen it played before. She was pressing the Omnioculars so hard to her face that it was digging into her nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Cora spun the slow dial on the right of her Omnioculars again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and she was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against her eardrums.

HAWKSHEAD ATTACKING FORMATION, she read as she watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the centre, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. PORSKOFF PLOY flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran.

Cora zoomed in on the beater Connolly and smirked at his obvious looks and talent… He would be a good one to seduce, she thought. A good way to try and get over George.

One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it - "TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!"

"What?" Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

"Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" shouted Hermione, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honour around the field. Harry looked quickly over the top of his Omnioculars and saw that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the Veela were watching them sulkily.

Cora knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Cora's chest kept squeaking their names: "Troy - Mullet - Moran!" And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears!" bellowed Mr. Weasley as the Veela started to dance in celebration.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman.

One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. Cora followed their descent through her Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was - "They're going to crash!" screamed Hermione next to Harry.

She was half right - at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

"Fool!" moaned Mr. Weasley. "Krum was feinting!"

"It's time-out!" yelled Bagman's voice, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course ..."

Cora hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on her Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to her eyes.

She watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion. WRONSKI DEFENSIVE FEINT -DANGEROUS SEEKER DIVERSION read the shining purple lettering across his lenses. She saw Krum's face contorted with concentration as he pulled out of the dive just in time, while Lynch was flattened, and she understood - Krum hadn't seen the Snitch at all, he was just making Lynch copy him. Cora had never seen anyone fly like that; Krum hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that he looked unsupported and weightless. Cora turned her Omnioculars back to normal and focused them on Krum. He was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. Cora, focusing still more closely upon Krum's face, saw his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was revived to look for the Snitch without interference.

Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivalled by anything Cora had seen so far.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Cora didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told her it had been a foul.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!"

Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words "HA, HA, HA!" The Veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.

As one, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Hermione, who hadn't bothered, was soon tugging on Harry's arm. He turned to look at her, and she pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears.

"Look at the referee!" she said, giggling.

Cora looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing Veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his moustache excitedly.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Cora, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the Veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before. . . . Oh this could turn nasty. . ."

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger.

"And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms . . . yes . . . there they go . . . and Troy takes the Quaffle.

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"Foul!" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.

"Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran -deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the Veela across the field. At this, the Veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through her Omnioculars, Cora saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders –

"And that, boys," yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone!"

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the Veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. Cora turned this way and that, staring through her Omnioculars, as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of a bullet.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the Veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov -The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and Cora couldn't blame him; one of the Veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight.

Cora wanted someone to realize that Krum was injured; even though she was supporting Ireland, Krum was the most exciting player on the field. Ron obviously felt the same.

"Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him -"

"Look at Lynch!" Harry yelled.

For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and Cora was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing...

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on . . . but Krum was on his tail.

How he could see where he was going, Cora had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again -"

They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione.

"They're not!" roared Ron.

"Lynch is!" yelled Harry.

And he was right - for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlie, along the row.

"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!" shouted Harry.

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good. . . . He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all. . .

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess. . ."

Cora put her Omnioculars to her eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but she could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the Veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind Harry. Cora looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Veil, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman.

Cora's eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, she saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; Cora could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in their direction.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge.

Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. Cora noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Cora's hands were numb with clapping.

She made eye contact with Connolly, a smirk playing at the edge of her lips. He did look awfully handsome with golden blonder hair, dark brown eyes and a dazzling smile. He cocked an eyebrow and smiled back.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Connolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, "Quietus."

"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist, that. . . . Shame it couldn't have lasted longer. . . . Ah yes... Yes, I owe you . . . how much?"

For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

**Hope you liked, and trust me, it should be getting a lot better after this.**


	5. Chapter 5

**New chapter!**

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."

Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in.

They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed. Cora, Hermione and Ginny went into the next tent, and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys into the other, did they change into pajamas and clamber into their bunks. From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang.

Cora, who was in the single bed across from the bunk-bed, was quietly humming along to the Irish singing, her mind still on the game. That would be the thing she would do if she wasn't an auror: A professional Quidditch Chaser for the Thundelarra Thunderers. The thought of flying around in a massive Quidditch pitch in her green and gold robes with millions of screaming fans around her was a dream of hers.

Cora never knew whether or not she had actually dropped off to sleep - her fantasies of flying like Krum might well have slipped into actual dreams - all she knew was that, quite suddenly, Mr. Weasley was shouting.

"Get up! Ginny - Cora - come on now, get up, this is urgent!"

Cora sat up quickly and rolled out of her bed.

"S' matter?" she said.

Dimly, she could tell that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed.

The singing had stopped. She could hear screams, and the sound of people running. She reached for her clothes, but Mr. Weasley, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pajamas, said, "No time, Cora - just grab a jacket and get outside - quickly!"

Cora did as she was told and hurried out of the tent, Hermione and Ginny at her heels.

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, she could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Cora squinted at them. . . . They didn't seem to have faces. . . . Then she realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. High above them, floating along in mid-air, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.

More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice Cora saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Cora recognized one of them: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

"That's sick," Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick. . . ."

Cora, Hermione and Ginny came hurrying toward them, pulling coats over their nightclothes, with Mr. Weasley right behind them. At the same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

"C'mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood.

Cora, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George followed. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the centre, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were behind Fred and Ginny, and Cora and George behind them. Harry and the others had just made it into the trees when a badly aimed red light hit and knocked Cora to the ground.

She screamed in agony, thousands of white-hot knives cutting into her flesh, her head feeling like it was going to split open, she screamed louder then she had ever screamed in her life… A mad laughter was heard when the pain finally subsided, and her attacker was obviously very gleeful that he had hit her, and suddenly the tortures feeling rose up again. She writhed on the ground, trembles running along her spine as her skin split open.

She raked at the ground with her fingers as her voice grew hoarse and raspy, but she couldn't stop screaming, the pain wouldn't allow it. And suddenly it stopped again, completely. She opened her eyes to see the Weasley twins, Ron and Harry pounding someone into the ground, not bothering with wands, but using their fists instead.

Tears ran down the sides of her face into her hair. She was shuddering uncontrollably and her breathing was weak and uneven. Hermione and Ginny were kneeling by her side, tears in their eyes and running down their face. When they saw her eyes open, they let out inaudible cries of relief and called for the others to come over.

They were beside her in mere seconds, Fred putting an arm under her upper back to help her sit up. She tried to hold in a moan of pain as her body protested to the movement, and she managed to keep silent…

That is, until, they tried to help her stand and she crashed back to the ground, throwing her hands out to stop herself from hitting to hard. The world seemed deaf to her, she couldn't hear anyone talking and there was a loud ringing in her ears.

She felt someone lean down and scope her up into their arms. She turned her head slightly to look at George then looked at the ground where she was laying.

"My wand," she croaked, and pointed at it. Hermione lent down and picked it up, handing it over to her. Cora pulled it towards her and held it to her chest, feeling stronger now that it was in her hands.

George started running beside the others back into the trees, Fred and Ginny beside him and Harry, Ron and Hermione behind. He kept going faster, wanting to get away from the clearing as fast as he could. They didn't notice Harry, Ron and Hermione fall behind them.

They finally stopped running when they reached a crowd of scared looking witches and wizards and George sat down on a tree root with Cora on his lap. He kissed her hair and tightened his arms around her, feeling completely lost.

When he had seen her fall, he had just assumed that she had tripped over a stone or tree root, but as he was halfway down to help her up, she started screaming, ear splitting heartbreaking screams. He had been confused, but then he heard the laughing and looked up. A cloaked man in a mask had his wand pointed at her, and he understood.

With a roar of rage he had thrown himself at the man, just as Fred, Ron and the others appeared beside him. The four boys launched at the man and didn't bother with wands, pummelling the crap out of the guy. Then he heard her screaming stop and then Ginny and Hermione cry out in relief, and he had to get back to her.

"George?" Cora whispered, her head in the crook of his neck.

"I'm right here," he said, stroking her arm with his hand.

"George, I'm sorry," She said, moving so she could look him in the eyes.

"What! Why, what's wrong?" he said frantically, pulling her closer to his body. She felt tears pooling in her eyes again.

"I'm sorry for yelling, and for not giving you a chance and for implying things that I shouldn't have. I wish I could take back the things that I said because then we would still be talking and things wouldn't be awkward and maybe you would actually know how much I –ˮ She broke off as screams split the air and a green light bathed the area.

She looked up and just kept in a shriek.

A massive green skull was floating in the air, a serpent sliding out of its mouth. Voldemort's mark. The screaming stopped and they saw cloaked figures flying over them, disappearing in the other direction from the dark mark.

George stood quickly, and Fred and Ginny moved towards them from where they were calming a little boy that was scared to death.

"Let's go back to the tent," George said, and Fred nodded in agreement. They moved slowly towards the edge of the forest, being as quiet as they could. When they reached the fields, they were relieved to see that all the Death eaters had gone, and that their tent still stood.

They hurried towards it and Fred opened up the flap that would reveal the entrance. Bill, Percy and Charlie were there, Bill with a nasty cut across his arm, and they stood up and pointed their wands the moment they saw them, lowering them a few seconds later as they spotted who they were.

"What's wrong with Cora?" Charlie asked, spotting her in George's arms. George moved forwards and sat her down in the chair at the small table as Fred said.

"The Cruciatius curse." Bill, Charlie and Percy all gasped in unison, and instantly asked if she was okay. She nodded once and pointed her wand on herself, thinking of spells that would help with the tiredness. She wished she had one of her vials of Wiggenweld potion. That would get her back to normal in no time.

Charlie walked towards the entrance to the tent and poked his head out, and they could hear him talking to someone.

Next thing, Mr. Weasley, Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking into the tent, looking shaken but okay.

"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "We found Barry Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

"What?" Bill, Charlie, and Percy said together.

"Harry's wand?" said Fred.

"Mr. Crouch's elf?" said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance from Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Mr. Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to . . . embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry . . . how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control -"

"She didn't do anything - she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy - better, indeed, than any of the others.

"Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Percy pompously, recovering himself.

"She didn't run amok!" shouted Hermione. "She just picked it up off the ground!"

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" said Ron impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone. . . . Why's it such a big deal?"

"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," said Hermione, before anyone else could answer. "I read about it in 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts'."

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked . . . it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean. . . It's still only a shape in the sky. . ."

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," said Mr. Weasley. "The terror it inspired . . . you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside. . . ." Mr. Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear . . . the very worst."

There was silence for a moment. Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Death Eaters?" said Harry. "What are Death Eaters?"

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," said Bill. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr. Weasley. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly. "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters -" Harry began. Everybody flinched - like most of the wizarding world, the Weasleys always avoided saying Voldemort's name. "Sorry," said Harry quickly. "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" said Mr. Weasley with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finished disgustedly.

"But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" said Ron. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Ron," said Bill. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives. . . . I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So . . . Whoever conjured the Dark Mark. . ." said Hermione slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley. "But I'll tell you this . . . it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now. . Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

"Dad, you need to heal Cora," George said, and Mr. Weasley looked around to look at her. His eyebrows shot up and he asked what happened.

"Tortured," George said and Mr. Weasley's eyes went steely.

"There's nothing I can do right now," he said. "She needs rest." Cora tried to get to her feet and she managed a few steps before her knees buckled and she feel forwards. Harry, who was closest, caught her and let her lean against him, her with an arm over his shoulder. He helped move her towards the girl's tent and sat her down on the bed.

She smiled at him and he waited for her to lie down. Just as she was leaving, she said in a tired voice. "Harry, can you send George in?" Harry nodded and left.

George came in a few seconds later and didn't say a word as he sat down by her bed with her hand in his. He reached his other hand out and caressed her cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth. She stared into his brown eyes and tried desperately not to fall asleep so she wouldn't have to stop, but it was too hard, and she fell into restless unconsciousness.

o.O

Mr. Weasley woke them after only a few hours' sleep, and Cora felt a million times better. Mr. Weasley used magic to pack up the tents, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr. Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague "Merry Christmas."

"He'll be all right," said Mr. Weasley quietly as they marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while...and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."

They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay, and when they reached it, they found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamouring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen.

They walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.

"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.

"Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried-"

She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Cora saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.

"You're all right," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, "you're alive. . . . Oh boys. ."

And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.

"Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us –"

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OW.L.s? Oh Fred. . . George. ."

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr. Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back toward the house. "Bill," he added in an undertone, "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says. . ."

When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder.

"I knew it," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Ministry blunders . . . culprits not apprehended . . . lax security. . . Dark wizards running unchecked... national disgrace. . . Who wrote this? Ah . . . of course. . . Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans -"

"Do us a favour, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up."

"I'm mentioned," said Mr. Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.

"Where?" spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whiskey. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," said Mr. Weasley. "Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged sometime after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh really," said Mr. Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? Rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods . . . well, there certainly will be rumours now she's printed that."

He heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," said Percy importantly. "Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

He bustled out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked most upset. "Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?"

"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr. Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off. . . ."

"Mrs. Weasley," said Harry suddenly, unable to contain himself, "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"

"Hedwig, dear?" said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. "No. . . No, there hasn't been any post at all."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look and Harry asked. "Alright if I dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"

"Yeah… I think I will too," said Ron at once, "Hermione?"

"Yes," she said quickly, and the three of them marched up the stairs. Cora watched them go and shook her head, pouring her own glass of tea. She snuck a shot of Firewhiskey into her glass and had a sip, enjoying the way the alcohol burned as it went down her throat.

She finished it off and drank the last of the dregs, then put the cup back down and got up, saying she was going to her room to change. She left them to themselves and walked up the stairs to her temporary room, going inside to sit on her bed. She pulled her trunk towards her and rummaged around for her potion box, pulling out a vial of the Wiggenweld potion. Drinking it down, she instantly felt it take effect. The dull aching in her body subsided and she sighed in relief as her energy came back.

She was half way through putting her things away when she heard a shriek from downstairs, footsteps coming up the stairs, then Mrs. Weasley burst into her room and strangled Cora into a hug.

"You were hit by the Cruciatius curse!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed and crushed her even harder. Cora coughed and said in a strangled voice.

"Crushing bones – Can't – Breathe." Mrs. Weasley pulled back then and patted her on the head.

"You poor girl, how could you withstand such pain?" Cora spotted Bill, Charlie, Ginny and the twins in the doorway and glared at them, her eyes asking who told Mrs. Weasley. Charlie looked incredibly guilty and she mouthed 'I'm gonna kill you' to him, behind Mrs. Weasleys back. He winced and disappeared down the stairs.

"Is there anything you need?" Mrs. Weasley asked her in a motherly tone, and Cora shook her head. Mrs. Weasley gave her one last pat on the head and left her with Bill, Ginny and the twins standing at the doorway.

"Why the hell did he tell her?" Cora hissed, and they all hurriedly shook their heads. They slowly backed away from the door and went to run down the stairs, but Cora shouted out.

"George, get your ass back here!" He appeared back at the door, looking scared and nervous, though a bit amused. "Shut the door behind you," she said. George did and walked forwards slowly, looking at her cautiously. She patted the spot on the bed beside her and he did so.

When he was seated properly, she slowly moved her hand up to his chin, tugging on it till he turned to face her. Then she moved her hand around to the base of his neck and made him lean forwards, and she pressed her lips gently to his.

She pulled back, her nose inches from his, and looked into his eyes, her own sparkling with hidden emotions. George moved back in without her help then, and he kissed her slowly and softly, afraid that if he was to rough she would get hurt. But she wasn't going anywhere, not when George was holding her like that, his hand resting on her thigh and the other knotted in the hair at the back of her head.

She had her arms around him too, buried in his hair and a handful of his shirt in her clenched hand as he trailed kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. She arched her back and moaned in response, gasping as he lightly bit into her skin.

"George," she moaned, her hands clawing at his back as he moved back up to her lips. She caught his bottom lip in between her teeth as she pulled back, and let it go as he started laughing lightly, kissing her quickly.

"I can't believe I'm kissing you. I'm kissing Cora," George gasped, and Cora smiled.

"I know, I'm her," she said, placing her hands on his neck and pulling him in so she could kiss him again.

They separated a few moments later, Cora trying to get up rather reluctantly. George sighed and hesitantly let her up, keeping his hand on her side. He stood up with her and lent down to kiss her again, but she threw a hand over his mouth.

"George, if we stay in here for much longer people will get suspicious and then they won't leave us alone at all." He rolled his eyes and she took her hand away from his face. As she turned, he shot forwards and presses a chaste kiss to her lips, then disappeared out the door, laughing loudly. (I couldn't think of anything to write so I thought I'd throw in a little kissing seen)

o.O

Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night. On the third day after they returned from the World Cup, Cora had joined them at the Ministry to get her apparation test done. It went a little something like this.

"Okay, all you have to do is get an image of where you're gonna end up, which is just outside the leaky cauldron, here there's a picture." The Apparation instructor shoved a photo into her hand. "Remember the three D's of apparation. Destination, Determination, Deliberation, and you get a second chance, if need be."

Cora stared down at the picture, nerves burning in her belly, and memorized it, even though she had been there before. She then looked up, pictured herself appearing in that spot as hard as she could and twisted around.

With a pop, she reappeared, but much to her disappointment, it didn't look anything like the Alley with the Leaky Cauldron. She groaned loudly and walked around the corner, then came up short. Right in front of her, right where it should be, was the pub, and she let out a sigh of relief. This was close enough that they would give her a second chance, right?

She waited for the instructor to come and find her, and walked into the Leaky cauldron, taking a few sickles out of her pocket for a butterbeer.

The instructor appeared a few moments later, looking slightly hopeful, with a clipboard in her hand. She spotted Cora over at the bar, and went over to sit next to her. She smiled encouragingly.

"You got a really good score, only a couple metres off," she started off saying. "You have another chance to get it right. This time you can apparate to…" She flicked through her clipboard. "…Hogsmeade, Dervish and Bangs. Just outside the store will be fine."

Cora nodded and finished off her drink, then stood and followed the instructor out of the Leaky Cauldron. The instructor smiled and waited for her to apparate, and Cora quickly complied. She pictured Hogsmeade, and spun around on the spot, feeling herself being squeezed through a rubber tube. Then it stopped and, hopefully, she opened her eyes and glanced around.

She cheered as she spotted the 'Three broomsticks, Honeydukes, and right behind her, Dervish and Bangs. There was a pop from beside her, and she looked over to see the instructor smiling at her.

"You've passed. Come back with me to the Ministry, and well get your licence." Instead of Apparating, she led Cora across the street to 'The Three Broomsticks' where she greeted Madame Rosmerta as an old friend.

From there, they flooed to the ministry, and Cora got her apparation license.

o.O

"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told them importantly the Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.

"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."

Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Cora liked this clock. It was completely useless if you wanted to know the time, but otherwise very informative.

It had nine golden hands, and each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family's names. There were no numerals around the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. "Home," "school," and "work" were there, but there was also "traveling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, "mortal peril."

Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work." Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first -"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron.

"Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"

"Well, it is a bit long, dear," said Mrs. Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me -"

"No, Mum."

Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs. Weasley had bought for her, Harry, and Ron in Diagon Alley. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. Fred, George and Cora were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

"What are you three up to?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes on the twins.

"Homework," said Fred vaguely.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said George.

"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.

Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling"; a second later it had shuddered to a halt on "home" with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room.

A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Mrs. Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shrivelled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly.

"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," said Mr. Weasley irritably.

"There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

"I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.

"If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" said Hermione angrily.

"Now look here, Hermione!" said Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants -"

"His slave, you mean!" said Hermione, her voice rising passionately, "because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mrs. Weasley, breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you. . . ."

Cora completely agreed with Hermione, and was ready to throw in her two cents when Mrs. Weasley told them to leave. She huffily got to her feet and left the twins, following Ginny and Hermione up to her room.

When the door slammed behind them, Cora burst out, "Does nobody else care for the wellbeing of House-Elves?" Hermione was beside herself with anger, and they both continued to rant as Cora made sure she had all her books, uniforms and equipment for school, along with her Broomstick and a bag of money that Mrs. Weasley had gotten from her vault at Gringotts.

Having finished with her packing, Cora left Hermione and Ginny to it and walked across the hall to the twins' room, barging in without knocking.

They were both staring, horrified, at their beds, where hideous lacy dress robes were laid out. Cora had one look at their faces and then at the robes and burst out laughing. They turned and glared at her, saying in unison.

"Shut up." She did, but not because they asked, and pulled out her wand.

"Fine then, I won't fix them," she said and made to leave. But pleading calls from the both of them made her turn with an evil smirk on her face.

"What are you gonna do for me?" she asked, twirling her wand lovingly. Fred and George looked at each other, trying to think things up.

"Umm… oh shit… We'll go see your muggle music class…and we'll…" Fred tried, looking thoughtful and desperate. Cora sighed and pointed her wand at the robes, neatly removing all traces of lace. She transfigured the bonnets into normal bow-ties and changed the coats to jackets. She made them look less faded and kept the waist coat the same, though changing the colour of the jacket and pants to a darker black.

"Wow, that heaps better," Fred said, picking the new robes up in his hands.

"I would do the same with Ron's, because knowing your mum she would have gotten him the same ones, but I think I'll let him suffer for a bit." Fred and George cracked grins at her and bombarded her with hugs, squishing her between them as they showed their appreciation.

"Seriously, are you trying to kill me?" she coughed out, pushing them off of her. They smirked and went back to packing their things as she threw herself across Fred's bed.

"So when are you gonna let me help you make those little products of yours?" She asked, and Fred and George froze immediately. Cora glanced at them curiously with a cocked eyebrow. "Well?"

"Well, you see…a lot of it is quite…dangerous…and we would rather you didn't get hurt," Fred stammered, and Cora rounded on him, her hair flaming red in anger as her temper came close to bursting.

"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Well…I mean…there are lots of…explosions and…fire….and burns," George stuttered, and Cora broke out.

"What, you think I can't take care of myself? That a simple thing like making a candy will leave me screaming for dear life?" Fred and George shrank back under her stare and started stammering out words.

"I don't want your useless explanations," she hissed. "I can't believe you have little to no faith in me." She stood up off Fred's bed, sneered at them, her teeth going razor sharp in anger, her eyes golden with small black slits for pupils, and went to leave the room, but George wrapped a hand around her wrist.

"You'll think it wise to let me go, or you'll find a rabid dog feasting on your face," she growled, her voice going raspy as she struggled not to morph into an animal, her inhuman side trying to take over.

George loosened his grip but didn't let go completely. "Don't go mad," he said softly, but her heightened hearing picked it up. She shook her head, but it was getting harder to keep it under control.

"I have to get out, NOW!" She shuddered and ripped her arm from George's grip, tearing down the stairs, taking each step four at a time. She felt her fingers elongating and her nails sharpening, her back arching and trembling as her bones broke themselves and reshaped into a different animals.

She burst out of the Burrow as a massive lioness, roaring loudly as she tore across the yard into the trees. Her lion hearing picked up the sounds of pattering footsteps behind her, and she pushed herself faster, lunging at a tree and dragging herself up with her claws hooked into the bark.

She had no idea why she was so angry, or why she felt so helpless. Shouldn't the boys keeping her safety as a top priority make her feel better? But no, it just made her feel weak, and useless and fragile, not the way she wanted to feel, strong and brave.

She clawed her way onto a thick branch that would support her weight and crouched down, trying to shield herself with the leaves. But it was no use, the sunlight gleaming through the trees set her golden pelt a flame in its glorious colour. Better make the best of it.

She pulled herself into a sitting position and wrapped her tail around her feet, keeping her head held high. She heard the twins crashing through the trees trying to find her, then a shout followed by loud growls.

Cora's ears slicked up, and she jumped down from the tree, creeping stealthily across the ground. She rotated her head from side to side, searching for the noise, and spotted bright red hair through some trees.

She walked forwards and stuck her head in between the trees. Her lion eyes widened and a growl ripped from her throat.

Fred and George were there, backed up against a tree, looking terrified. A huge black bear was growling at them, a cave not far away, and it was advancing slowly on the twins. Cora roared and jumped in front of them, standing tall as the bear laid eyes on her. (I'm not really sure if there are bears in that part of the word but just roll with it. (What up title reference)

"Cora," the twins shouted, and she growled low in her throat, flicking her tail. The bear had its eyes looked on her, and it reared up onto its hind legs. Then it charged.

She met it head on, snapping her jaws over its ear and tearing at flesh. A horrible metallic taste entered her mouth as the bear ripped its ear from her mouth and snapped its own jaws around her tail. She roared in pain and anger and lashed out with her claws, raking them over its face and spraying blood all over the forest floor. She scrambled with her hind legs against its underbelly, hoping to shred the soft flesh. She wouldn't give up until the twins were safe.

She felt blood spill over onto her feet, and it was only to her feline stealth did she move quick enough from out of its belly as it tried to flop down and squish her against the ground with its huge weight. She rolled out from under it in time just as it reared back onto its back feet.

It growled and clapped its huge paws down on her back, reared back up to smash her again and she clamped her jaws around its foot, crushing bones. The bear ripped it away, and seeing this fight would surely get it killed, turned and scampered off to its cave. Cora ran and gave it one last swipe across it's behind.

It disappeared and Cora lifted her head up, roaring triumphantly. Then she collapsed to the ground, her spine cracked in several places. She felt hands touch her fur and opened one eye to look at Fred and George, her tail flicking once.

They both had tears in their eyes, which was a great surprise, and they were shaking in fear. George said something in a muffled voice and Fred tore off, running as fast as he could towards the Burrow.

The lioness roared quietly as George ran his hand over her neck, lacing his fingers through the tufty fur around her head. She didn't have a mane, because she wasn't a male lion, but the fur was still longer there, like with every lioness.

Then the footsteps came back, this time two pairs, and Fred came into view, and beside him was Charlie.

"Oh my Godric, where did you find this?" Charlie asked, his voice rising in surprise.

"It doesn't matter just heal her," Fred yelled, and Charlie quickly pulled out his wand.

"George, you have to move," Charlie ordered, and he moved away quickly, with a small pause of hesitation. Charlie moved forward with his wand raised and said in a loud, smooth voice, spells like Vulnera Sanentur, Episky, Ferula, Ossio Dispersimus and other similar spells to heal her. She could feel her skin knitting together, and her bones cracking into place.

Finally, with one last flick of his wand, Charlie healed the last gash on her body and put his wand away into his belt. Cora staggered awkwardly to her paws and stretched like a cat, sticking her butt into the air and flicking her tail from side to side.

Fred and George tackled her, burying their heads in her huge neck, and digging their fingers through her fur. She rumbled in her throat and rolled onto her back, scratching her shoulders into the ground with a humbled wriggle of her spine.

"Can you two please explain to me why this lion is so important?" Charlie shouted, causing Cora to flick her ears down to try and block out the noise. The twins got back off the ground and talked in hushed whispers so their brothers.

Slowly, the realisation dawned on him and Charlie glanced over at Cora who was still enjoying her back scratching. He pointed at her with his mouth hanging open, glancing repeatedly from Fred to George.

"Cora?" he said in a shocked voice, and the lioness flicked her ears. She rolled back onto her paws and shook herself, ridding her fur of the dirt, then she tensed, feeling her body shift into that of a human.

"Thanks for the help," she said as a normal human, cracking her back in a few places as she stood straight. "I would've been cactus if you hadn't come along."

Charlie still stared at her in shock, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as if it were broken. Cora ran her hands through her tussled hair, scrunching up her face as it untangled and grew shorter so it wasn't in her way. Striding forwards, she bypassed Charlie and the twins, making her way back towards The Burrow.

"Wait, what the hell just happened?" Charlie yelled, looking from her to the twins and back again. Cora turned abruptly and said in a smug voice.

"You can ask them, considering they're the ones that got me into this mess." She pointed a finger at Fred and George and watched in satisfaction as they gulped nervously.

"Toddle-oo." She wiggled her fingers at the three of them and walked smoothly back to the house, not meeting anyone until she got to her room, where Ginny was sitting.

"What happened to you?" Ginny asked in surprise as she saw the dirt covering Cora from head to toe.

"Oh nothing." Cora waved her hand as if she was shoeing away an annoying insect. "I was just in the woods. It's no problem." Ginny nodded, though still looked curious and went back to looking through her transfiguration book.

"I'm gonna take a shower. Tell the twins if they want me." Cora went through her bag and pulled out her sleepwear and a brush, moving out of the room with her things in her arm and to the bathroom. She looked the door behind her with her wand and undressed, getting into the shower and turning the taps until they poured warm water all over her hair and body.

Cora specifically washed all the dirt from herself, wanting to look clean and nice for the next day, the first day of her sixth year.

**Hope you enjoyed, and read and review. I'm looking for a few reviews for each chapter, because I'm uploading faster then I'm writing and it's becoming a struggle to get them all to 7000-8000 words, and to correct the spelling and grammar. So I will only keep trying as hard as I can if I get more reviews. You have been warned…. (Creepy eyes widening)**


	6. Chapter 6

**New chapter. So funny when I was writing this, my cat wouldn't leave me alone and messed up the whole chapter by jumping on the keyboard so I had to right it ****_again! _****Anyway hope you enjoy, and please, READ AND REVIEW!**

The three girls, Cora, Hermione and Ginny, tramped down the stairs with their trunks and cages, all looking down cast as the end-of-holiday gloom hung over them. They had just finished packing, and had said a quick goodbye to Mr. Weasley as he left for work at the Ministry.

"Come quickly girls," Mrs. Weasley said, waving them forwards. "Have some breakfast, it's almost time to go."

The three girls quickly rushed forwards and took a few pieces of toast, spreading their butter and stuffing the food in their mouths. The boys were standing by the door waiting for them to finish, Fred and George with theirs heads bent together, occasionally glancing over at Cora.

They finished and went back to their trunks, and the eight people walked outside. Mrs. Weasley had braved going down to the village post in the small muggle town and had called for three taxis.

"Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us," Mrs. Weasley whispered to Harry and Cora as they stood in the rain-washed yard, watching the taxi drivers heaving six heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. "But there weren't any to spare. . . . Oh dear, they don't look happy, do they?"

Cora and Harry didn't like to tell Mrs. Weasley that Muggle taxi drivers rarely transported overexcited owls, and Pigwidgeon was making an earsplitting racket. Nor did it help that a number of Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks went off unexpectedly when Fred's trunk sprang open, causing the driver carrying it to yell with fright and pain as Crookshanks clawed his way up the man's leg.

"Come on," Cora said to Ginny and they climbed into a taxi with Mrs. Weasley and Bill. George and Fred, being _almost _the oldest behind Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie and Cora, had taken the other taxi with Charlie.

Ginny and Cora talked in hushed whispers about the Hogwarts feast, excited for the amazing food, for the whole time until they got to Kings cross station. The Taxi drivers didn't help them get their trunks out, instead waiting to be paid with muggle money (Which Mrs. Weasley needed help with)

"Come on Cora," Ginny said once the Taxi drivers were gone. The two, with the trunks and cages, lent against the wall between platforms nine and ten. They slipped through onto platform 9¾ and waited for the rest to come through, Ron and Harry, Hermione, Fred and George, and Mrs. Weasley, then Bill and Charlie.

Mrs. Weasley moved around hugging everyone, catching more than one of them twice.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

"Why?" Fred said keenly.

"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it… its 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.

"Why?" George said impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."

"A bit of what?" said Ron.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with . . . one thing and another."

"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -"

"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you. . . . Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"

The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"

She waved as they all piled onto the train and stood by the door, each trying to wave to her as the train started to move. When she had disappeared from sight, the seven students went off to find compartments.

"Cora, aren't you coming?" George asked hopefully, obviously noticing the way she had avoided him and Fred for the last day. Cora glanced between Ginny, Harry and George, deciding whether she should sit where there would be no awkward confrontation or where there would be.

"Umm… I'll catch up with you later," Cora said hesitantly, taking a step towards Harry and the others. George's face fell instantly, along with Fred's and they turned to go find a compartment of their own, dragging their trunks. Cora stared after them, already feeling the regret and despair building up in her chest.

She turned back around, her eyes on the ground, and followed Harry, Ron and Hermione as they looked for a compartment.

Cora, Harry, Ron, and Hermione soon found a compartment, the thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what –"

"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Cora, Harry and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

". . . Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defence rubbish we do. . . ."

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione sniffily, "and it's got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.

"Er - why not?" said Harry.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts - how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, in surprise. "Everyone knows that… well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."

"Just you, then," said Ron. "So go on - how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?"

"It's bewitched," said Hermione. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a mouldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE."

"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?"

"Maybe," said Hermione, shrugging, "or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable -"

"Come again?"

"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"

"Er . . . if you say so," said Harry.

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully.

"Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident… Shame his mother likes him. . . ."

Their conversation veered off into silence, except for the constant rain drumming against the glass. Cora was leaning against the glass, her head resting in her hand and her eyes dropping relentlessly.

"What's wrong, Cora?" Hermione whispered to her, low enough so that Harry and Ron wouldn't hear. Not that they would, considering they were so obsessed with talking about Quidditch and the World Cup.

"What…Nothings wrong," Cora said, hoping against hope that Hermione would drop the subject.

"Oh, come one, Cora," Hermione whispered urgently. "This is about Fred and George. You haven't spoken to them for the last day and a half!"

Cora didn't say a word, instead opting for a silent glare.

"You are going to talk to them," Hermione said angrily. "Right now." Hermione yanked on Cora's arm until she was standing upright, and started pushing her towards the door. Smirking, Cora let herself go limp, adding dead-weight.

"Come on, Cora, if you don't do this soon then it's gonna be all the harder when you do."

"Fine, I suppose you have a point," Cora said sadly, and stood up straight again. "I'm going, okay." She waved good bye to the three of them, Harry, Ron and Hermione, and walked down the hall towards the end of the train, sparing a glance to each compartment in search of the twins.

She had caught up with a few of her friends, meaning Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, before she finally found the twins in their compartment, each lying across a whole seat. They looked completely dejected, not even talking. She slowly slid the door open, stepping inside and clearing her throat to get their attention.

They sat up slowly, glancing once over at her as she bit her lip nervously. Their eyes asked unanswered questions and their lips formed those questions into words. Cora blocked her ears as they bombarded her until she got fed up and threw her hands over their mouths. She shushed them soothingly, and slowly took her hands from their mouths.

"I'm sorry, okay, now let's just forget about the whole thing." Cora slumped down in one of the seats, resting her head back and moaning loudly, for a long time…

"Cora, stop moaning," Fred said heartily, a bright grin stretching across his face. "And we're sorry too."

"Good, let's hug it out." She stood and pulled Fred and George by their necks, hugging them tightly for a few seconds then releasing them. She lay back down, this time taking up the whole seat, and morphed her hair to a much more relaxed mahogany. Fred quickly jumped onto the other bench, leaving George with nowhere to sit.

"Hey, come on, I need a place to sit," George said, crossing his arms over his chest. Fred poked his tongue out at him and Cora waved with a cocky smile. And he mirrored the smile, diving onto her and rolling her over so she was lying across his chest.

"George!" Cora squealed, struggling to get off him but only succeeding in falling back down and smashing her chin on his chest.

"Cora, are you alright?" George asked gently, lifting her up and moving his legs so she could sit.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it," she said, rubbing her sore chin. "Hurt like a bitch, though." She glared at George and smacked his arm hard, smirking in satisfaction as he frowned at her.

"Anyway…" Fred said, butting in, "Anyone up for exploding snap?"

"Yay!" Cora yelled, flopping to the ground and sitting across from Fred.

…

Ten minutes later, and Fred had no eyebrows.

"Oh, nice, eyebrows," Cora teased, and wiggled her own just to annoy him. He glared at her and crossed his arms, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. Cora smiled fondly and slapped him across the back of the head (Softly), pulling out her wand and growing them back for him.

"Thanks, Cora," he said, though looked slightly mutinous as he rubbed the back off his head.

"Yeah," she said absently as she went and laid across the seat with her head in George's lap. "Wake me when we're almost there." George stroked her hair, making it grow a _very _vibrant green, as she feel into unconsciousness.

o.O

"Cora? Cora, get up!" Fred yelled loudly, as he slouched in his seat. Cora blinked her eyes open with a start and turned her head to stare at Fred in annoyance, freaking him out by making her eyes go eagle-eyed yellow. He blinked and turned away quickly, though he could still sense her gaze on the side of his face.

"Yep…" Cora sighed as she got up, "I gotta get my trunk." She left without a goodbye, moving back down the hall to get her trunk from Harry's compartment. She talked to him, Ron and Hermione for a few minutes then dragged her trunk and owl cage back to Fred and George.

"Turn around," she ordered the moment she entered the compartment. Fred and George, who had changed while she was gone, turned, albeit George a bit slower than his twin. Cora quickly pulled on her robes, tucking her wand in her coat and morphing her hair black with green strikes, tying it up into a ponytail with a few pieces hanging out. **(I've got an image of her on my profile if you want to see) **

"You good?" Fred asked, wondering if he could turn around. Cora said yes as she threw her trunk up onto the port racks and sat down next to Apollo in his cage. She had let Demeter fly ahead and shrunk down her cage to put into her pocket.

When a man came down the corridors shouting that they would reach Hogwarts in five minutes, Coraline got her trunk down and moved from her compartment into the hall down to the exits, Fred and George following.

The train came to a stop at Hogsmeade station, and Cora, the twins and their trunks walked along the sidewalk away from the train, and to the trunk depot. Leaving their trunks and Cora's owl cage behind. She got Caly out of her own cage and, with a flick of her wand, she became small enough to fit in her pocket. Cora did this every year, shrunk down her fox and took her up to the great hall for the feast.

They found themselves a carriage, Cora staying silent about the Thestral, and waited for a fourth person so they could go up to the castle. They talked until, finally, the carriage door opened and Ginny got in, along with another girl with long dirty-blonde hair.

"Hey, guys, Cora," she said as she sat down next to George and Cora. "This is Luna Lovegood, from Ravenclaw."

"Hello," Luna said vaguely, and Cora waved with a bright smile. She already liked the girl, because she had already spotted the girls radish earrings, which she thought were totally awesome, however weird they were.

"Who do you think our defence teacher will be?" Cora asked everyone, trying to fill the silence. "I hope it's someone good."

Luna said in a breezy voice, "My dad heard that it was going to Roland Chang." The four others stared at her until finally, George said.

"Who's Roland Chang?"

"Oh, a man daddy used to work with. He went to work with the minister a few years ago," Luna explained, staring off out the carriage window.

"Oh, interesting," Cora said, trying to sound convincing. They fell into silence again, and didn't speak once until they reached Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

o.O

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Cora could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Cora, George, Fred, Ginny and Luna jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase. Cora led them over to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak - ARRGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his sneakers into his socks. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Cora looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again. Another balloon came down and hit Cora in the shoulder and she felt her hair flame up in anger.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch - sorry, Miss Granger -"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves -"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

The seven of them, Luna having left, slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast.

Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in mid-air. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Cora, Fred, George, Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semitransparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.

"Good evening," he said, beaming at them.

"Says who?" said Harry, taking off his sneakers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving."

The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, the only ones Cora had been present was her own, Harry's and the one last year. She was quite looking forward to it. Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table.

"Hiya, Harry!"

It was Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er - good," said Harry.

"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er - yeah, all right," said Harry. He turned back to Hermione, Ron, Cora, the twins, Ginny and Nearly Headless Nick. (**I'm gonna call them 'the others' from now on)**

"Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" Harry said. He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.

"Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

Cora looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too, and Cora couldn't think who else was missing.

"Where's the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers.

They had never yet had a Defence against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. Cora's favourite by far had been Professor Lupin, her uncle, who had resigned last year. She looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.

Cora scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway grey hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape - Cora's least favourite person at Hogwarts. Cora's loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of her, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Cora, along with Harry, Ron and Hermione, had helped Sirius escape right under Snape's overlarge nose - Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own school days.

On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which Cora guessed was Professor McGonagall's.

Next to it, and in the very centre of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought.

Cora glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and she had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff."

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Cora and the others were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school - all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what Cora recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, _I fell in the lake!_

He looked positively delighted about it.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

_A thousand years or more ago, _

_When I was newly sewn, _

_There lived four wizards of renown, _

_Whose names are still well known:_

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, _

_Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, _

_Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, _

_Shrewd Slytherin, from fin._

_They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, _

_They hatched a daring plan _

_To educate young sorcerers _

_Thus Hogwarts School began._

_Now each of these four founders_

_Formed their own house, for each _

_Did value different virtues _

_In the ones they had to teach._

_By Gryffindor, the bravest were _

_Prized far beyond the rest; _

_For Ravenclaw, the cleverest _

_Would always be the best;_

_For Hufflepuff, hard workers were _

_Most worthy of admission; _

_And power-hungry Slytherin _

_Loved those of great ambition._

_While still alive they did divide _

_Their favourites from the throng, _

_Yet how to pick the worthy ones _

_When they were dead and gone?_

_'Twas Gryffindor who found the way, _

_He whipped me off his head _

_The founders put some brains in me _

_So I could choose instead!_

_Now slip me snug about your ears, _

_I've never yet been wrong, _

_I'll have a look inside your mind _

_And tell where you belong!_

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"That's not the song it sang when it sorted us," said Harry, clapping along with everyone else.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers; Cora could see Malfoy clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins. Cora wondered whether Baddock knew that Slytherin House had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. Fred and George hissed Malcolm Baddock as he sat down.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming - a misleading impression, for Cora and the others knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide- - "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother.

"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Nearly Headless Nick as "Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff.

"Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Ron.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," said Nearly Headless Nick, applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined the Gryffindor table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the Sorting ended.

Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.

"About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as the seven of them loaded their own plates.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak.

"Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly. "So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits-"

Clang.

Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention.

"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick.

"They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning… see to the fires and so on… I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Hermione stared at him.

"But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry, 'Arry -" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labour," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labour."

"Hermione, I agree with you, but the house Elves enjoy what they're doing," Cora tried to explain, hoping she would drop it. Hermione turned away.

And she refused to eat another bite.

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"

But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices…"

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry and Cora gasped. She looked around at Harry, Fred and George, her fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swivelled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Cora had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Cora couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark grey hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Cora saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time… no. . ." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament. . . well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities -until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Cora herself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Cora could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbours. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" - Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" said George, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons. . ."

"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

Cora, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.

"Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George…"

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older... Dunno if we've learned enough…"

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George.

"I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honour. I'll just have to - oops. . ."

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armour at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut it, you," said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed.

A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and Cora distinctly heard her mutter "Slave labour" before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory.

"Bye, Harry, Ron, Neville," Cora called after the three boys went up to the dorms. She turned to Fred and George and said, "I'll come to your room in a few, I just want to get changed." She left them and quickly ran up to her dorm, throwing on her clean P.J's and tucking her wand behind her hair. She went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, then left down the stairs with a goodbye to Angelina and Alecia.

She went straight into the sixth year boy's dorm and collapsed on George's bed, falling back into the familiar routine of sleeping in bed with George. Fred was lying in his own bed, and George and Lee were in the bathroom, both doing their teeth.

"Are you gonna enter?" Fred asked her, as she sat up and looked at him. "I mean you can, after all." Cora thought for a moment before she said.

"No, I don't think so. I mean I don't need the money, and I'm popular enough as it is." She said jokingly, then pulled a funny face at him. He grinned, trying to supress a laugh, then said.

"Good, I'm glad. I don't want you to go in and fight things while I have to sit around and watch."

"You aren't entering?" George asked, coming back into the room. He had a glimmer of relief in his eyes that Cora tried to ignore.

"No, I don't think so." George didn't say anything, instead climbing into his bed and sitting next to Cora. Fred looked at them with a smirk and Cora glared at him.

"What are you looking at, shit for brains?" she said defensively, getting ready to tackle him in case he didn't have a good enough answer.

"Umm…nothing at all. I'm going to bed." He quickly turned over and lay down, not making a noise. Cora glared at him for a while longer then lay down, pulling George with her so she could wrap her arms tightly around his stomach, her head on his chest.

"Goodnight, Cora," George whispered into her hair, and in reply, she snuggled closer to him, smiling slightly.


	7. Chapter 7

**New chapter. Read and Review, please or no update.**

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter grey swirled overhead as Fred, George, and Lee Jordan discussed magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament. Cora wouldn't have a part of it. If she wasn't entering, then she didn't want them to either.

"What aging potion should we take?" Lee asked, shovelling some egg into his mouth. Cora wrinkled her nose at him and scooted away, closer to Harry, Ron and Hermione, going out of earshot of the twins and Lee.

"Today's not bad… outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures... damn it, we're still with the Slytherins…"

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down.

Divination was Cora's least favourite subject put of all the eleven she was doing, even though she got an O on her O.W.L's. Professor Trelawney kept predicting tragedies about all her friends, which she found extremely annoying.

"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

"You're eating again, I notice," said Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione haughtily.

"Yeah . . . and you were hungry," said Ron, grinning.

There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Cora looked up, and spotted her Demeter flying towards her with a letter clamped in her beak. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap -Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy's eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home.

Cora took the letter from her owl, and while Demeter clambered onto her shoulder and settled down to eat a piece of bread, she tore it open, reading through.

_Dear Cora,_

_Happy to hear you got to school alright, and I imagine you would've already heard about the Tri-wizard tournament. I'd like to know if you're entering or not so I can tell Snuffles and Amber. They're dying to know, or so I've heard from his letters. Amber says hi, as well, and wished you luck in your classes not that you need it._

_Tell me when your first Hogsmeade visit is, I'd like to meet up with you at the Three Broomsticks. I'll tell you how the full moon went then. Say hello to Harry._

_Love,_

_Remus._

Cora smiled and folded her letter, stuffing it into her book-bag. "Remus said hi," she said to Harry, going back to her porridge. Harry nodded and went to say something, but the bell across him, and he instead got up with Ron and Hermione and left, waving back to Cora as he went.

She scooted back down the bench back next to Fred, and took her schedule out of her bag. Up first was Alchemy, then Arithmancy, Defence then Herbology, and Muggle music that afternoon.

Due to the fact that they only got three owls all together, the twins only had Defence with her, and she had Charms with George. It was a real disappointment, because it was a massive change from having almost every single class with the twins, going down to just two. She, along with the Fred, George and Lee, stood up and moved off to the Entrance Hall, heading off to her classes.

"See you later," she said to them, moving to the fifth floor corridor towards the Alchemists classroom. Professor Greene was one of her favourite teachers, and he especially liked her because she was the best in her class.

When she sat down at her desk, right in between her Ravenclaw friend, Brian Crane and her other Hufflepuff friend Maria Dearborn. They both greeted her with smile as she sat down and Professor Greene started.

"First off, I would like to congratulate all of you for making it into my NEWT class, but beware that this year will be twice as hard as the last, though I think that won't be a problem for some of you." He smiled warmly at Cora and she grinned back.

So the lesson started, and not long after, he sent them into the room over where the Alchemy tables were, setting each student to their own individual one. He set them with the task of linking runes and adding potions to conjure gems and diamonds with special uses.

Cora succeeded in linking the runes with her wand to make a vibrant emerald, and touched it in certain points with the tip of her wand to activate its uses. She poured a bright green potion over it so that if you did the right movements, the gem would be able to make you multilingual, after you whispered the language to the stone.

Professor Greene came up behind her and said in a very proud voice, "Well done, Coraline! 20 points to Gryffindor for such an excellent creation. Please demonstrate what it does."

Cora stood and held the stone to her lips, saying in a quiet voice, "Spanish."

She looked up at the teacher and said, "_Cambia el idioma que habla._"

She whispered back to the stone, "English," and grinned up at him. "It changes the language you speak. You just whisper to it what language and you start speaking it and you understand what others are saying."

She handed it over and Professor Greene said something, then said to her, "_C'est spectaculaire. Encore dix points pour Gryffondor._" (This is spectacular. Another ten points to Gryffindor.)

"J_e vous remercie, monsieur_." (Thank you, sir)

He whispered back to the stone and said, "You speak actual French?"

Cora nodded. "I speak almost every language."

The teacher stared at her in awe.

o.O

Cora waited patiently outside the Defence classroom, wishing it was her uncle inside instead of Mad-eye Moody. George, Fred and Lee weren't with her yet, but Angelina was, the only one out of her roommates that had made it into Defence against the dark arts. The two girls were so excited for the class that they had rushed through lunch and gone straight to their next class.

"Where's the rest of them?" Cora and Angelina jumped as they heard the rough, grizzly voice right by their side. Professor Moody had come out of his classroom, and it was amazing that the girls hadn't heard the clunking of his fake leg on the ground.

"Lunch only just finished, professor," Angelina said, checking her watch. "We came early."

Moody grunted once and said in an annoyed voice, "Come in, then." Then he turned and clunked off back into his office. Cora and Angelina looked at each other, synchronised expressions of surprise, confusion and wonder on their faces.

They moved through the door into the classroom and sat down side-by-side at the front, leaving room for George and Fred on either side of them. They both pulled out their copies of 'The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-protection' and their wands, and while Angelina set hers on the desk, Cora used it to tuck her hair behind her ear, along with the wand itself.

Soon, a few minutes later, the others students in her class came in, four from Ravenclaw, two from Hufflepuff and two from Slytherin. And then there was Fred and George, looking even more similar as they strode into the room with their hands in their pockets and their bags slung on one shoulder.

The twins sat down either side of them, George on Cora's and Fred on Angelina's, and Professor Moody came shambling out of his office. He walked straight up to the board, scrawled his name across in messy writing, than turned around with a mad look on his face.

"I'll be teaching all the fourth years and above the same subject. Who of you can tell me about the three unforgivable curses?" He growled, piercing them with the stare from his one bright blue eyes. Nobodies hand went up.

Then slowly, Angelina stretched her hand up, looking slightly nervous as Moody looked at her.

"Yes?"

"Well, there's the imperious curse, which allows the caster to have mind control over the person cast open," Angelina said, fiddling her fingers under the desk. Moody nodded, then went over to his desk, pulling something out from behind one of the draws.

Without a word, he pointed his wand at it and they all spotted a large spider. "Imperio!" Moody yelled, and then the spider jumped up into the air and scuttled across the desks, leaping in between the table spaces. Moody started laughing hysterically as it landed Cora's desk and crawled along her arm and down the other. Then it jumped on one of the Hufflepuffs face. It did a few more tricks, then Moody set it back on the table, where it stayed still.

"The others?" He asked.

Noticing nobody had put their hands up, Cora slowly raised hers. Moody looked at her, and immediately snarled.

"A Black?" He growled, "I remember your kind. Bunch of no-good Death-Eaters. I specifically remember your good for nothing cousin. Bellatrix Lestrange."

He spat the words contemptuously, sending a glare at her. She glared right back, and said anyway.

"The Cruciatius curse is the torture curse, causing excruciating pain for the victim," she said defiantly staring him straight in his one small, beady eye. He glared at her, though there looked to be something hidden in his expression, and then scoffed.

"Of course you would know that," he growled, and turned away. "And the other?" he asked everyone else, while Cora turned her head slightly to stare out the window and George patted her on the back. But one thing was for certain. Moody definitely did not like her.

o.O

Cora, George and Fred walked down the aisle in between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff table towards Harry, Ron and Hermione. They managed to catch some of their conversation, mostly about going to the library, when Hermione hurried off and Fred took her seat. Cora pushed her way into a seat between Harry and Ron.

"Moody!" Fred said. "How cool is he?"

"Beyond cool," said George, sitting down opposite Fred.

"Supercool," said the twins' best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George. "We had him this afternoon," he told Harry and Ron.

"What was it like?" said Harry eagerly.

Fred, Cora, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning. Even though he was mean to her, Cora still thought it was an amazing lesson.

"Never had a lesson like it," said Fred.

"He knows, man," said Lee.

"Knows what?" said Ron, leaning forward.

"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," said George impressively.

"Doing what?" said Harry.

"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Fred.

"He's seen it all," said George.

"Mazing," said Lee.

Ron dived into his bag for his schedule.

"We haven't got him till Thursday!" he said in a disappointed voice.

o.O

"Wow, that's bloody amazing, Cora," George said as he handled the stone. She had decided to call it 'the stone of etymology,' the only thing she could think of.

"Thanks," she said brightly, "this baby got me 30 points for Gryffindor on the first day." She smirked cockily and pocketed the stone, walking up to the fat lady with George following.

"Balderdash," she said to the portrait, stepping into the common room and falling into her favourite armchair by the fire. Perhaps it was because they had just gotten back from afternoon tea, but the both of them immediately sunk into a state of immense tiredness, as they waited for Fred, Harry and the others to come up.

"Hey Cora, don't you have your Muggle Music class in a few minutes?" George asked suddenly. Cora sat up abruptly, a look of horror on her face.

"Shit!" she yelled, "I'm gonna be late!" she gathered her book bag and went to run out the portrait hole, only stopping to ask George if he and the others would want to come.

George nodded. "I'll wait until they got here," he said, and she started running again to the Muggle music room.

Professor Burbage and Flitwick were already there when she arrives, both sitting quietly as they waited.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Professors," she panted, throwing her bag down in the corner of the room. Flitwick squeaked a hello and Burbage waved with a smile, gesturing for her to take an instrument.

"Why don't we start out with a song for you to play? With singing, please," Professor Burbage said, and Cora walked around the room, trying to decide on what instrument and song she should play.

Deciding on what song she was going to sing, she took out her wand and flicked it at the guitar, and it rose up into her arms. She started playing, and when other instruments joined in, she thought a spell and the instruments continued playing without her need of guiding them, apart from the guitar. It was one of her favourites, from a muggle story she had read so many times.

She started to sing. (I don't own this song, all rights reserved to Tina Arena, I love this song so I just had to put this in)

_Ohh, clinging to a rolling stone,_

_The greatest love I've ever known_

_Left me standing at the side of the road_

_Hope keeps telling me_

_That I'm not alone_

_And it shouldn't be a fella I need_

_I want to hold on_

_This love has gotta be_

_Another way to move on_

_I refuse to live an_

_Ordinary life_

_I refuse to live an_

_Ordinary life_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_Don't look back!_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_Don't look back!_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_I'm never looking back._

_Oh, I'm stranded on the side of the road_

_Wondering how the story unfolds_

_It was the only way to get to the gold_

_Gold…_

_No one's telling me,_

_It's time to go home_

_I'm alone,_

_Not lonely,_

_Out on me own_

_This love that had control of me,_

_I've finally let go, go_

_I refuse to live an_

_Ordinary life_

_I refuse to live an_

_Ordinary life_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_I'm never looking back._

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_Don't look back!_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_Don't look back!_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_I'm never looking back._

_Oh, Woah, oh Woah, Woah oh oh_

_I'm never looking back._

_Oh, Woah, oh Woah, Woah oh oh_

_I'm never looking back_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_Looking back,_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_Don't look back!_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_No, don't look back!_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_Oh Woah, yeah!_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_No oh, yeah!_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't look back_

_Don't look back!_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't ever look back_

_Don't look back!_

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't ever look back_

_I'm never looking back._

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't ever look back_

_I'm never looking back._

_Don't look back_

_Don't you never do that_

_Don't ever look back_

_I'm never looking back._

Cora flicked her wand and all the instruments settled down into their original place, looking as though they had never been touched. Professor Flitwick and Burbage started clapping, bright excited smiles on their faces. But then, suddenly, more clapping joined in, and Cora looked towards the door to see George, Fred, Lee, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and her roommates, Angelina, Alecia along with Katie from the year below.

"Hey guys, you made it," she said, a bit embarrassed that they had heard her singing, though happy they thought it was good.

"I told you she was a great singer," Angelina said to the others, Lee excluded. "I can't believe you didn't want to come, George." George glared at her, and Angelina flinched, realising what she had done.

"What the hell, George?!" Cora yelled at him. "You didn't want to come to this, when it only took a few minutes and I'd been asking you to come for years!?"

"I'm sorry, Cora-" George tried to say, but she held up a hand for silence. Not saying a word, she stalked away from them into the theory room, slamming the door loudly behind her.

She jumped onto one of the desks, sitting with her legs crossed under her, and tried desperately not to scream in frustration. She banged her fists into the desk, then punched a hole in the wall, almost breaking her fist in anger as she tried to muffle the hurt she felt spreading through her chest. She gasped as the pain cept on spreading, the mental hurt blocking out the pain of her fist.

She heard the door softly open and close behind her, and without turning, she said, "I don't want to talk to you, George."

"It's not George," the voice said, and Cora turned slightly to look at Fred. She scooted over so he could sit down beside her, and she lent her head on his shoulder as he wrapped a strong arm around her.

"Are you okay?" Fred asked softly, not bothering with trying to defend his twin.

"Yeah…" Cora sighed. "I just…George of all people, didn't want to come, and it made me feel like I wasn't important to him at all."

Fred stared at her in surprise, then said, "Cora, George loves you, more then he loves any of his other friends. You're the most important person to him in the whole world, and he never wanted to hurt you."

Cora glanced up at him, and whispered without even stopping to think about it, "We're together."

Fred's mouth fell open in surprise as she stared up at him, her eyes beginning to water as she tried desperately not to cry.

"What do you mean you're together?" Fred asked, furrowing his brows.

"Well, we kind of get together…a lot. I mean, we haven't…you know, but we make out a lot, and stuff." She felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment as Fred stared at her with wide eyes.

"Wait, so you and George are going out, and you didn't tell us?" Fred asked, though to her relief, he didn't sound angry.

"Well, we aren't going out. He hasn't asked me yet, even though I've been dropping hints and everything. I wanted to wait until it was official before we actually told everyone," she explained. Then hesitantly, she continued.

"I-I don't think that's going to happen though. I mean, ever since we kind've got together, there have been a lot more fights between us. Before anything happened with us, we never argued, but now we do almost all the time." She finally felt the tears overwhelm her, and Fred pulled her into a hug. She buried her head in his chest, appreciating the feeling of her bestfriends comfort.

Her eyes still welled with tears, soaking Fred's shirt, when the door opened and closed again, and Fred handed her off to his brother. Cora didn't notice until Fred had left, and it was just her and George alone, with her arms tightly huddled against his chest.

George didn't speak, instead resting his cheek on her hair as he lifted her onto his lap.

"Why, George?" she whispered softly, wrapping her arms around her legs, pressed to her chest. "Why do you hurt me this way?"

"I never meant to, Cora," George said gently, "It wasn't like that. I did want to come, just…not that second…"

Cora sat up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, looking away from the object of her anger.

"I'll see you later," Cora muttered, and got down off the table. She walked off towards the door, sparing one last glance over at George. He was staring blankly at the far wall, eyes dull, and his face looking very pale, as though he were in shock.

"George?" Cora asked cautiously, taking one step towards him, then another. "George, a-are you okay?" He didn't look at her, but still shifted his eyes downwards. Though she was still angry at him, Cora couldn't help but realise just how sorry he really was, and how desperate he was for her to forgive him.

"I-I know you didn't mean it, George," she tried to say, "but it hurt that you don't care enough to even want to come. It feels like you don't appreciate our friendship."

"I don't," George said, much strongly than his previous tone. "I'd much rather we we're more. But if friendship is all I can get from you, then I'm gonna have to make to most of it."

Cora stared in surprise, then took a few steps forwards so she was standing directly in front of him, and was able to lift his face so she could look him in the eyes.

"You're a fool! You think I don't want to have more than friendship with you? That I've just been making out with you for the fun of it!? Do you not get the fact that I've wanted to be with you since the fourth grade!? I mean, if you don't get that-!"

"I get that!" George suddenly yelled, shocking her into silence. "But I'm tired of these endless questions in my mind, wondering if we're together or if we aren't, or if you even like me at all, or if this has a future!"

Cora frowned at him, feeling her eyes well up again. "Don't you know, George? I've been waiting, and waiting, for some sign that you're going to asked me out, but then you just…don't."

"I…" George trailed off, and when he didn't say anything else, Cora turned and ran, past the professors, and her friends, all the way to the safety of her dormitory.

o.O

Cora lay still on her bed, her back against the head-board, watching the small fireplace in the middle of the room as the flame flickered, slowly dying out. Feeling the need to do something, Cora pointed her hand at the fireplace, and using her Veela abilities, shot fire outwards into the fireplace, building up the flames.

Suddenly, there was a small knock on the door, and Angelina poked her head in to see if she was awake. Obviously noticing that Cora was, she pushed the door open more and moved in, Alecia and Katie Bell following. They came and sat around Cora on her bed, giving her security in their comforting stares.

"Are you okay, Cora?" Angelina finally asked, feeling the sisterly bond the four of them shared. Cora shifted her gaze up to her friends, took one glance at them, and burst into tears. The girls immediately moved forwards, swarming her in a group hug worthy of a lollipop (I don't know just roll with it)

She felt better almost straight afterwards, laughing slightly as Alecia patted her on the head. They pulled back the tiny bit, giving her room, and Katie said.

"He's not worth all of this grief." Alecia and Angelina nodded in agreement, but Cora shook her head.

"That's the thing," she whispered. "He is."

o.O

"Cora, come on, talk to me," George begged as Cora walked from the Great Hall towards the Potions classroom. She tried to ignore him as best as she could, but it was hard when every time she heard that pleading voice she felt her will crumble a little bit more.

George had been trying to get her attention since she entered the common room, from her own dormitory where she had spent the night. She was too angry with George to go up to his dorm room and stay with him. No, the wounds were too fresh.

He had not left her side at all, not while she walked down to breakfast, not while she ate breakfast, and not now, on the way to her class. The whole time, Angelina, Katie and Alecia had been throwing him sympathetic glances, though they still help a bit of anger, and Angelina guilt for blowing his secret.

"Cora, I'm sorry, you know how much I am. Will you please just listen?" She ignored him still, only slightly increasing her pace to show that she had heard what he had said.

"Coraline!" George finally yelled, and Cora halted in her steps, not bothering to turn and look him in the eye. The Corridor was deserted, so there was no prying eyes, but Cora still glanced around self-consciously.

George gently took her arm in his hand, and led her down a passage behind a very old tapestry of Morgana the magnificent. At the end of the passage, there was a small but cosy room, probably the size of the sixth year girl's dormitory. In the middle there was a red leather couch, and against the wall a fire place. Cora remembered finding this room, and claiming it as her own. She even remembered conjuring up the couch and fireplace.

"Cora, you need to talk to me right now!" George shouted in anger, his glare growing stronger the longer she stayed silent. She didn't sit, nor just stood, but instead paced around the room, rubbing her forehead with her hands. She knew that this conversation was going to be very important, but she could only think about how she was most likely going to be late for class, and on the first lesson. Snape would kill her if she was late.

But never mind that. George was glaring at her with such hatred, she had to use all the self-control she had not to run and cry at the same time. Yet she wasn't sure if the hate was directed at her, or at himself.

"George… Wh-why do you look so…hateful?" She asked questioningly, trying not to cringe under his icy stare. He was silent, his expression unchanging and his posture un-moving.

Then he turned and slammed his fist into the soft wall, punching an impressive hole in his anger and frustration. "Why do I keep ruining this?" he asked desperately, not turning to face her.

Cora's eyes had widened by his actions, even more so when she saw a trickle of blood dripping for his hand to the carpet. She glanced up from his hand to the back of his head to see that he was leaning his forehead on the wall, looking utterly defeated.

"It's always me that starts it," he muttered. "I'll offend you, or hurt you, or make you seem weak when you're not, and the moment I say it I wish I hadn't because I know it's not true. Last year, when I said those horrible things about you being like your father, when they weren't even close to the truth, and when I accused you of being unfaithful, I knew that you would never do that, because that isn't who you are."

He finally glanced up, moving his body and taking three long strides forward so he was standing right in front of her, though he stared straight over her head as he spoke.

"And when I thought you weren't strong enough to take care of yourself, or that you wouldn't be able to make a simple potion, I finally realised how stupid I was being when you saved me and Fred from that bear and almost died, but you didn't. And then I go and make the mistake again, after I had just made up with you about the potion."

He looked down straight into her eyes, and she felt as though he was gazing into her soul.

"And at the World Cup when I was running and you were right behind me, and then you just weren't! You were hit by the Cruciatius curse, and it was like I could feel your pain, because I could hear it in your screams, the terror, the hurt, but there was nothing I could do. But I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill the person that tried to take you form me. I thought you would die, and it was my fault because I wasn't careful enough. I was such an idiot! And I hate myself because of it…"

"I…" Cora had no idea what to say. She didn't know that George had all of this pent up inside him, just waiting for it to burst outwards. Tears were curving down her cheeks, and her legs felt weak and heavy, like she had just ran a hundred miles without stopping.

George had slumped from his angry stance and he was staring at his feet in defeat and dejection, as though he had already given up hope.

"What are you doing to me?" she begged in agony as she clutched at her chest, an aching pain in her heart as she took in George's words. They were lanced with pain and regret, and they pierced right through her as though she were made of water.

With all her thoughts, she hadn't noticed George walked away from her, his head hung and his hands in his pockets. As she looked up, going to talk to George, she saw that he was gone, and immediately ran from the room to catch up with him.

"George!" she yelled, bursting from the tapestry and looking from side to side. She just caught a glimpse of him disappearing around the corner into another corridor. "George!" She yelled again, running again. But George had gotten too far ahead of her, and the only chance of reaching him was…

Making up her mind, Cora tensed and felt her body change, shifting into large but swift cheetah. She ran as soon as the transformation was over, and went much faster then she had as a human. She rounded the corner, her paws barely touching the ground she was running so fast.

George whipped around in surprise, his eyes widening in shock as she skidded to a halt in front of him and shifted back to a human. She took a deep breathe then yelled in anger.

"You can't just leave without letting me reply! You didn't even give me a chance to talk to you!" She latched herself onto his arm with a tight grip and started dragging him back the way she had come. George struggled feebly, but not enough to actually get out of her grip. She went back past the tapestry and down the passage, striding strongly so as to start her rant at him.

She reached the end of the passage and pushed him in front of her, then pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Now you listen here, George Fabian Weasley, because I will not repeat myself!" she yelled, and he stared at her with dull eyes. "Why the hell do you think that you can just yell at me, and make me and you feel like the worst person in the world, and then walk away as if you think I don't have an answer?"

She glared, waiting for an answer, but all George did was turn and collapse onto the couch, rubbing his hands down his face. Cora sighed, wondering why he had this effect on her. She moved forwards and placed her hands on his shoulders, then lent forwards and softly kissed his cheek. He moved his hands upwards so they were resting on her hips, and she moved forwards so she was sitting on him, her legs on either side of his.

"I'm sorry, Cora…" George said, looking away from her as though he still felt guilty. "I'm sorry I'm so horrible to you, and that I'll never deserve you…ever."

Cora gazed at him, and for the second time that day, tears slid down the curve of her cheeks. "You'll always deserve me, George. I couldn't imagine myself ever being with anyone else."

She leant back down and kissed him, once softly then again and again each time a little more fierce and passionate and longer. She desperately needed him to know how much she cared for him, liked him, maybe even how much she was in love with him…

"Cora," George said, after a few moments. "What about class?"

Cora froze, pulling backwards to stare at him in horror. She pushed herself off his lap, and grabbed her bag off the floor. She turned to run from the room, but almost slammed into George's chest.

"Sorry, but this is the first potion lesson of the year and you know how Snape is," she said, glancing up with him. "I wish I didn't have to go…I'll see you later? Actually…meet me back here at lunch."

George nodded and lent down for a second, kissing her with soft lips, a hand on the back of her head so he could pull her closer. She breathed in, relaxed, as he pulled backwards and moved, leaving a gap for her to leave.

She slowly inched past him, not daring to look into his eyes, and dashed down the passage, along the corridors, down to the dungeons. She reached the room just as the others came in and sat down, but Snape noticed.

"Two points from Gryffindor for being late," he said, shooting a glare at her as she took her book out and flicked to the designated page on the board. There were simple instructions, just to make a potion called 'The draught of living death.' Cora smiled. She had made this potion many times, and was a pro. She didn't even need her method to make it.

She started with cutting up the Sopophorous bean by slightly tilting her blade and squishing it done, then she poured in 250 of water and added 5 oz. of African sea salt to the beaker. She set the beaker aside after all the water has been added, very careful not to shake or move it.

After leaving the water and salt to rest for five minutes, she slowly poured all the water into the cauldron. With her left hand, she used the graduated cylinder to obtain 40 of essence of wormwood.

With her right hand, she held the cauldron at a slight angle and poured ten drops (20 .) of essence of wormwood. With her left hand she held the cauldron at a slightly different angle and poured another ten drops of wormwood essence.

She chopped three Valerian roots into small squared pieces. After cutting, she placed it in a beaker with the water, and lest it to settle for five minutes. The potion now resembled a smooth blackcurrant-coloured liquid.

She carefully poured the Sopophorous bean's juice into the cauldron, and added seven drops of the reduced liquid from the beaker; making sure there were no traces or fragments of Valerian root. Stirring the potion ten times clockwise, her potion turned a light shade of lilac.

With her right hand, Cora stirred the potion counter clockwise until the potion turned as clear as water; every stir taking approximately two and a half seconds. She slowly put in seven square pieces of Valerian root, and stirred the potion ten times counter clockwise. She add one hundred and fifty . Of powdered root of asphodel.

Holding the cauldron with her right hand, she gently stirred the potion ten times counter clockwise and eight times clockwise with her left hand. She left the potion to settle for two and a half minutes, then added one small piece of Valerian root. The potion turn to a pale pink colour; the preparation was complete.

She poured a portion into three flasks and pocketed them, then waited for Snape to come around and check hers. When he reached her potion, he gave a slight sniff at how great it was, then dropped a leaf into the cauldron. It disintegrated, just like it should, and Snape grunted.

"20 points to Gryffindor," he said snidely, and strode away. Cedric Diggory, who was standing across from her, frowned, obviously thinking she deserved more points than that. She just shrugged and waited for the bell.

o.O

Straight after her Divination class, Cora made her way back to her little hidden room, nerves fluttering through her stomach as she wondered if George was already there or not. She turned around the corridor and spotted the tapestry.

She came up short, her breathe coming in sharp gasps. She tried to slow it down, along with her pounding heart. She didn't know what was happening to her, and hopped more than ever that it would pass by the time she met George. She stopped to take a deep breathe, then walked through the tapestry, and down the passage.

George was lying with his legs across the couch, a book lying over his face as though he had attempted to read but had given up long before he had actually read anything.

To get his attention, Cora threw her bag into the corner of the room, and it made a loud thud as it hit the wall. He looked up, the book falling off his face, then jumped to his feet when he saw it was her.

"Hi," he said, sounding breathless, and they looked at each other nervously.

"Hey…" They didn't waste time standing there, and without a conscious thought, they were both tangled together, lips locked, hearts smashing against chests, bodies pressed to bodies. Hands travelled down to her thighs, and George pulled her legs around him, pressing himself even closer. She gasped against his mouth, and her arms circled around his neck, then weaved through his red hair.

His mouth travelled from hers, down across the soft skin of her neck, and she arched her back in response, hoping he would never stop what he was doing. One of the hands on her thigh came back up, trailing over her hips, stomach, and slowly to a place no man had ever touched before. He had his hand cupped over her left breast, and slowly his other hand came up to her right. He clenched his hand slightly, and Cora moaned and let her legs drop from his waist, forcing him back onto the couch.

He fell back with a groan and Cora crawled over him, straddling his waist with her legs. Her hands were pushing his shirt up, running over his stomach and chest, and his were back on her thighs. Then she felt him, digging into her.

She pulled back to look into his bright eyes, breathing deeply in ragged short gulps. She smiled down at him, and his cheeks coloured red in embarrassment as he noticed why.

"Sorry…" he mumbled, and Cora grinned. She moved forwards and kissed along his neck.

"We should stop…" George said quietly, though he sounded the most reluctant to actually do that.

"Why?" Cora asked, though she was to breathless to complain.

"Because…" he had to catch his breath as she tightened her legs on either side of him. "…someone could walk in here. Someone could find it by chance."

Cora sighed and loosened her grip. "Fine," she moaned and got up, then pulled him up by his shirt so she could kiss him once more. Leaving him standing there, she went across the room to get her bag, and straightened out her shirt and skirt.

She pulled out her wand, conjured a mirror onto the wall and fixed her hair, making sure it looked neat and not like she had just been making out with someone.

"You aren't mad are you?" George asked, coming up behind her. Cora stared at her reflection in the mirror for a moment, then smiled.

"No," she said, and turned to kiss him once more. She lingered for a moment, then turned and walked down the passage, grinning from ear to ear in amazement,

o.O

Cora, George and Fred rushed through dinner that night, wanting to get up to the common room to start their…interrogation…on a certain someone. As Fred shoved the last of the Kidney Pie into his mouth, Cora quickly said bye to Harry, Ron and Hermione, and she and George started walking back up to the common room, Fred hurrying after them as he left Angelina's side.

George left for the dorms the moment they went through the portrait hole, and Fred and Cora sat down in the far corner of the room, knowing that the rest of Gryffindor would be coming up any moment. Both silently thought up ideas, trying to think up the best plan to get them what they wanted.

"Wait, so he gave you leprechaun gold instead of real money?" Cora asked, confused.

"Yes," Fred said, and Cora scoffed.

"Butthead," she said. "Anyway, so your just gonna write a letter to him?"

"Yes," he said again.

"What are you gonna say?"

"We don't know."

"Okay, that sounds…interesting," she said slowly. "But you can't sound accusing, or threatening or anything like that or he won't give it to you. But you can't be too nice or he'll think you're wimps, or cowards or whatever, and he won't take you seriously."

"Yeah, that's a good point, actually." Fred and Cora looked up as George came back down the stairs with parchment, a quill and ink.

"You got any ideas?" he asked as he sat down beside them.

"Uh, yeah," Cora said, "Give me some parchment." She started to write.

To Mr. Ludovic Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports

I am writing to bring your attention to the matter of an unpaid bet at the Quidditch World Cup. My brother and I bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, and 3 Knuts on the Irish, that they would win, but Bulgaria would catch the snitch, and it appears, to your knowledge or not, that we were never paid.

Cora stopped and pushed it across for the twins to read. Their eyes skimmed over it, and they nodded as they finished.

"It's good, actually. So what else should we say?" Fred said. But Cora wasn't paying attention anymore. She had glanced up and spotted Harry and Ron, and it appeared they were both working on their divination homework.

"I'll be right back." She left and walked over to the two fourth years.

"Hey, Cora," Harry said when he spotted her. "What are you doing?"

"Oh I was just writing a letter to someone. What about you?"

"Divination homework. We just making tragic stuff up," Ron replied, and then added. "How about… On Wednesday, I'll come off worst in a fight."

"Ahh, I was going to have a fight," Harry said, amidst Cora laughs. "Okay, I'll have a bet."

"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight," Ron said, and Cora started laughing outright.

They continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around them slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Crookshanks wandered over to them, leapt lightly into an empty chair, and stared inscrutably at Harry, rather as Hermione might look if she knew they weren't doing their homework properly.

Cora had her eyes closed, trying to think ideas, and didn't notice as Crookshanks jumped onto her lap, purring loudly. Then she glance up.

"Maybe one of you gets clawed by Crookshanks," she said jokingly, and the cat flicked his ears at the sound of his name. Though Ron, who was running out of ideas, scribbled it down.

"And you'll be late to one of Snape's classes and get a week's detention, because you forgot an assignment as well," she also suggested, and Harry took that one.

Cora didn't know why she was helping them do their homework done, for she was actually rather gifted in Divination. Managing to get an O in her wizarding levels. She was much more skilled at it then Professor Trelawney, when it came down to it.

She had just come up with a rather gruesome suggestion (Ron and Harry both get Neville's potion all over them and it gives the appearance that they've been turned inside out) when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at George with a smile, and he asked.

"You coming up?"

"Um, yeah in a sec. I'll just go up to my dorm first," she said, "Bye Harry, Ron." George went up the left stairs behind Fred, and Cora went up the right staircase. The moments she entered the door, she knew that she wouldn't be going with George.

Alicia Spinnet was sobbing on her bed, black tresses of hair around her face, with Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson surrounding her. They were patting her hair and rubbing her back comfortingly, and both glanced up when Cora entered the room. Relief immediately spread across their faces,

"Oh, thank Godric you're here," Angelina said, and added in a hushed "Alicia's mum died yesterday. She just got an owl."

"Oh no," Cora whispered, and moved silently to Alicia's side. She looked up at Cora, and said in a hushed, wet voice.

"Is it horrible, Cora? Not having a mum. Will this get worse?" Cora frowned at her, feeling tears well up at hoe said she felt for her friend.

"It did at first. I was young, only four, but I can remember. It was terrible, and cruel." Alicia looked even sadder now, but Cora wasn't done yet.

"But after a while, it gets better. You start to appreciate life more, see it in a brighter light. But it's different for all of us. Just remember, we'll always be here for you, and so will your mum, in there."

No matter how cliché it sounded, Cora new it was true. When she was scared or said, she'd think of her mum and it would warm her heart, making her feel brave and strong and loved.

Alicia nodded, and settled back down, and Cora, Katie and Angelina crawled onto the bed around her, hugging her tightly. They didn't move from the position for the rest of the night, as the three girls comforted the other.

**Please review. I won't Update until I have at least 12 reviews after this chapter, okay? You got that, good. Love you all**

**~Althea**


	8. Chapter 8

**New Chapter. Remember to read and review okay, because if not there will be no updates forever. Love you.**

If it wasn't the weekend, the four sixth year Gryffindor girls would be screwed. They stayed up all night, not doing much, then slept all of the next day, then did the same thing the next night, though that involved more talking and hugging and crying.

The only time Cora left the room for the whole weekend was to sneak down to the kitchens and grab some food. Which was what she was doing that moment.

She had reached the painting of the fruit bowl, and had just tickled the pear, when it turned into a bright green doorknob. She quickly turned the handle and ran through the door, immediately being greeted by hundreds of tiny elves.

"Miss. Black as here, what can Dobby do for Miss. Black, Harry Potter has told be all about Miss. Black." Cora looked down at her feet and spotted a small elf, with green tennis-ball eyes, and a long nose and ears. So this was Dobby.

"How did you know I was her?" she asked in confusion, cocking an eyebrow at him as more elves came up behind them.

"Harry Potter showed Dobby Miss. Black, he did," Dobby answered. "What can Dobby get Miss. Black?"

"Oh, can I get Chocolate cake, chocolate chip cookies, a lot of butterbeer, some potato bake, salad and chicken, and pumpkin juice, toasted sandwiches with tomato, ham and cheese… and cauldron cakes…and a jug of water…and a heap of chocolate, strawberry and vanilla ice-cream, and throw in some mango and cookies-and-cream too."

_What can I say? This is meant to feed four girls who haven't eaten for a whole weekend, _she thought, and sat at one of the house tables as she waited. The House-Elves were running around everywhere now, trying to put together her food as quickly as possible.

A few minutes later, three House-Elves came over to her, holding a large picnic basket between them. Cora quickly stood and took it from them, a great smile on her face as they bowed to her.

"Thank you very much," she said gratefully, and Dobby said.

"Anything for a friend of Harry Potter, Miss. Black."

Cora smiled again. "Please, call me Cora," she said and Dobby bowed again as she walked out. She ran through the corridors, which was tough, because Gryffindor house was on the seventh floor, and the Kitchen in the basement. When she finally did reach the common room, she had to be careful to dodge around people as she ran into her dormitory. She didn't notice the twins staring after her in confusion, George's mouth half open as though he was about to say something.

Cora burst into the room with the basket held in front of her, and yelled out, "Okay, I got chocolate, ice-cream, cookies, cauldron cakes, chicken, salad, potato bake, sandwiches and butterbeer." She said that all in one breathe, then looked up at the girls.

Angelina and Katie were staring at her with cocked eyebrows, will Alicia was looking straight at her with, what Cora hoped, was a bit of amusement in her eyes.

"What…?" she said sheepishly, then as they didn't stop, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and said, "Fine then, I'll just eat it all. To. My. Self."

Katie jumped up with horror written on her face, and lunged at Cora, tackling her to the ground. Angelina caught the basket as it flew into the air, and Katie tried to pin Cora down. The two girls struggled, Cora thrashing around, and finally managed to flip Katie off her. Then she jumped up, pulled the food out of Angelina's arms, and ran back down the stairs, the girls, even Alicia, following.

As she got to the bottom of the stairs, laughing loudly, she felt the three girls collide into her, and they all tumbled forwards. The basket flew from her grip, though luckily nothing came out, and landed against the back of the couch, where people were turning to stare at them.

The girls burst into hysterical laughter, as they tried to untangle each other's limbs, though they weren't making much effort. Finally, Alicia dragged herself out of the pile, and grabbed the basket up in her arms.

Then she shouted at the top of her lungs.

"I win!"

Cora, Katie and Angelina groaned, and finally separated themselves, getting slowly to their feet. Cora took a step forwards once they were all apart.

"I think _I _should get half of it _because _I had to walk seven floors to get it, and seven floors to bring it back," she said, and placed her hands strategically on her hips. Alicia seemed to be considering her, and she finally nodded her head.

Cora squealed excitedly, though thankfully it wasn't high-pitched, and jumped over to Alicia's side, smiling brightly. Angelina and Katie, grumbling loudly as they got to their feet.

Grinning brightly, Cora grabbed a cooking out of the basket, and threw it at the back of Angelina's head. With her Chaser skills, the aim was perfect, and it bounced right back off onto the floor.

Angelina spun around so quickly, her long hair whipped Katie in the face, and they both turned to glare at Cora, though amusement was glittering in their eyes as Cora stuck her tongue out at them.

"You wanna go, huh, bitch?" Angelina said jokingly, holding her arms out to the side. Cora did the same, though gesturing for Angelina to come closer.

"Oh, Come at me, bro," she said teasingly, and braced herself.

"Come on, then, I can take it," Angelina said, doing the same. Cora grinned and said loudly.

"You can take my fist in your face!"

The grins fell from both their faces at the same time, as everyone 'ohhed,' whispering to each other as they waited for the reaction.

Cora and Angelina both fell to the ground at the same moment, breaking out into uncontrollable laughter, and they crawled over to each other to hug.

"Are you drunk?" The question came out of no-where, and the two girls looked up at the speaker. Lee was staring down at them with a grin on his face, Fred and George on either side of him.

"Wouldn't be surprise," Angelina said, dusting herself off as she stood to her feet. She reached down and pulled Cora up, and once again they wrapped an arm around each other's shoulders, gesturing for Alicia and Katie to join them.

"Anyway, us ladies are off for a round on the pitch, aren't we ladies?" Cora glanced at each of them, Angelina on her right and Katie and Alicia on her left. They nodded agreement, and walked with linked arms back up to the dorm room to retrieve their brooms. The food lay forgotten.

o.O

"Oh please, that should not count!" Katie and Cora glared at Alicia and Angelina, as they feuded over who won the game. "It was way past the buzz."

"Yes, but she had already _thrown _it, so it still counts," Alicia countered back to Katie.

"Well, we would have one anyway, so why don't you just admit that _we _won," Cora said, slightly calmer then the others as they made their way up from the pitch, covered in mud and dirt with their brooms slung onto their shoulders.

"Whatever, we might miss dinner if we don't hurry."

That sped them up, and the four girls hurried on up to the castle, and burst through the Oak doors into the Entrance Hall, then the Great Hall. Everyone was just starting, and they all quickly sidled down next to the twins, Angelina and Cora on Fred's side and Katie and Alicia on George's.

They didn't say a word to each other as the food appeared, and was piled onto their plates. They ate silently, to hungry to speak, until Katie broke the silence and asked,

"Are any of you going to try for the Tournament?" She directed the question to Angelina and Cora, given they were the only two that were or would be of age when the time came.

"I think I might," Angie said, stuffing her fork into the mashed potato. "It'd be nice, having that money. Godric knows it would be useful."

"Oh yeah, what about you Cora?"

She stopped, the piece of steak halfway to her slightly parted mouth, and flicked her eyes up. She had been thinking about it actually, ever since she said she wouldn't.

"Yes, I'm going to enter." Fred and George turned to stare at her, Fred looking proud, and George a bit doubtful. Cora elected to ignore that.

"I've thought about it, and I think it would be really great. I mean, I don't particularly _need _the money, but I thought I could use it for… something." She made eye contact with George, and he stared back at her in confusion as she cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh good, I didn't want to enter by myself," Angelina said, and then started eating again. Cora did the same, and finally got the piece of meat to her mouth, when there was a sharp tap on her shoulder, and she looked up. Cedric Diggory was standing behind her, a half smile on his face, and he asked quietly.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, sure," Cora said, and waved bye to her friends as she followed Cedric down between the tables. George and Fred were glaring after him as they walked, but only George felt like doing something about it.

Cedric and Cora stopped at the top of the stairs leading down to the Hufflepuff Common room, and they both smirked at each other as they waited for the other to speak.

Finally Cedric said, "I was wondering if you were entering the tournament?"

Cora nodded, curious, with her head titled to the side.

"Well, I'm entering to, and I wanted to ask if you'd go to Hogsmeade with me…on a date?"

Cora's eyebrows shot up so she fast she was surprised they didn't disappear into her hair line. I mean, she couldn't say yes, she was with George, but she didn't want to hurt either of her friends…

Cedric obviously saw the doubt in her eyes because he said quickly, "How about this. If my name comes out of the Goblet, we go on the date. If yours does, then we won't. And if neither come out, then we'll just go as friends."

Cora thought about it, for a moment, then grinned, and stuck her hand out to shake his. He grabbed it and shock, and walking side by side, they made their way back to the Great Hall.

Cora joined Fred, George and the others as Cedric walked back to the Hufflepuff table.

"What'd he want?" Fred asked, and if she wasn't mistaken, she thought she had seen him flick a glance at George.

"Just asked about the Tournament, and stuff," she said secretively, and quickly preoccupied herself with her pudding. Fred and George glanced suspiciously at each other, and went back to their food, but George kept glancing up at her, a slightly worried look in his eyes.

Cora glanced up, caught Cedric's gaze from the Hufflepuff table then looked down again, frowning guiltily.

"You know what? I'm not feeling the best," She said suddenly. "I'm gonna skip dinner and go straight up to bed."

She threw her fork down and jumped up, hurrying along the space between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tabled to the Entrance hall, then up the Grand Staircase. She walked past the paintings and portraits, only stopping occasionally to talk to them. She had a rather long conversation, though, with Esmeralda the Enchantress, about the prospects of the Triwizard Tournament.

When she finally did make it back to the Common room, the first thing she did was change out of her Quidditch robes and jump into the shower, hoping to wash the guilty feeling from her skin, figuratively.

Suddenly, there was a bang on the bathroom door, and Angelina's voice floated through. "Cora, what's the matter with you? Are you okay?" she yelled.

Cora dropped her hands from her face, and yelled back, "Yeah, I'm fine, just not feeling the best!"

"Has this anything to do with what you and Cedric spoke about?" Angelina called, and Cora grinned in amusement about how much her friend actually knew about her.

"What makes you think that?" Cora asked, feinting shock at the mere thought.

"Well, you're perfectly normal, and then you run off with Cedric, and then you come back and you're feeling sick."

The taps shut off, and Cora slowly dried herself off, first morphing her hair so short it was only a few centimetres thick, then dressed herself quickly.

"Coincidence," she said, leaving the bathroom and throwing her towel at Angie, who caught it with ease.

"I don't think so," Angie said, cocking an eyebrow sceptically, "What is it _really_?"

"Fine, Cedric asked me out, I didn't want to, I felt guilty, we made a deal, I felt guilty, and I came back. Oh, and did I mention that I felt guilty?"

Angelina sighed threw the towel to the ground, while Cora kept walking to her bed to flop down in exhaustion. Then she jumped back up with a shriek, and looked down.

"Caly, I'm sorry," she said sheepishly, and knelt down to pick up her pet. Calypso ruffled her fur angrily and settled back down in her owners hands.

She was really feeling nauseous now, and all she wanted was to curl up with Caly and sleep for days, pretending that there wasn't a care in the world, that Cedric hadn't asked her out, that this was a normal school year without the Triwizard tournament, that George would finally take her out.

"So Cedric asked you out?" Angelina finally said, and Cora flipped over to face her.

"Yes, he did, and like the stupid person I am, we made a deal that If my name came out of the Goblet of Fire, we wouldn't go out, if his did, we would, and if neither came out, we'd go as friends."

"That's intense…"Angie said slowly, then shrugged. "Hey, you can't complain though, he is incredibly gorgeous."

"I know!" Cora moaned. "That's the problem. I have these two great guys right in the palm of my hand, and I want the one that would never work!"

"Well, it could, If George strapped on a pair and took you out on a date. Seriously, what's his problem, any man would be lucky to have you." Angie crossed her arms over her chest, and pursed her lips angrily. She opened her mouth to say something else, then broke off.

A scratching noise came from the window, and Cora glanced up, spotting Apollo hovering outside with a letter and a package clamped firmly in his beak.

"Let him in would you?" Cora asked, and Angelina crossed the room and pulled the window open. Apollo soared through the room and landed on Cora's bed sheets, dropping the letter and package then walking over to Cora for a brief greeting.

After Cora gave him a scratch around the neck and Apollo had nibbled her ear, he took off back out the window, headed towards the owlery.

Cora watched him fly off for a few moments, then turned towards the letter, ripping it open with a morphed fingernail to make it sharp. Her eyes skimmed over the pages. There was no greeting at all.

_WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE HIT BY THE CRUCIATUS CURSE? ARE YOU HURT? I'LL KILL WHOEVER DID THIS TO YOU. HE'LL REGRET THE DAY HE EVER CROSSED MY DAUGHTER! I OUGHTA MAKE SURE HE'LL PAY FOR THIS! WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS HURTING YOU LIKE THAT? AND IF HARRY HADN'T TOLD ME I NEVER WOULD'VE FOUND OUT! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME? YOU BETTER REPLY TO THIS AS SOON AS YOU CAN._

_Snuffles_

Cora stared down at the letter in surprise, then looked back into the envelope to see if there was slightly more normal letter for her to read. There was, and she took the parchment out.

_Dear Cora,_

_I'm safe and hidden. I've been talking with Harry and he tells me that the Triwizard tournament is on this year. Tell me if you are entering or not. I don't know if I do or don't want you to. If it was me, my name would be in there as soon as possible, and it would be one of the proudest moments of my life if you were chosen. But I don't want you to get hurt._

_Remus has written and told me that he will meet you at the Three Broomsticks on the first Hogsmeade trip at 11am so be sure to be there. _

_I miss you and Love you_

_Snuffles_

_P.S._

_This was your mothers, I found it the day you left and I thought you might want it._

Cora glanced down at the package and tore it open, trying to suppress her excitement as Angelina watched her.

She pulled a long silver dress, with jewels wrapped around the bodice, stomach, and a small part of the skirt. It was strapless, and fell to just below her ankles, allowing just a little bit of her toes to show if she was wearing high-heels.

"Wow…" Cora and Angelina both shared the breezy sigh as Cora held it against her body.

"Hey there's a note tied to it." Angelina reached forwards and pulled it off. "It says…"

_I certain someone told me that you needed dress robes, so I took the liberty of getting something that I thought you'd like. Like I said before, it was your mothers, and she looked amazing in it, so I assumed you would too._

"Who sent it," Angie asked, holding the note out to Cora.

"Um…my Uncle Remus," Cora replied, still admiring the dress with the dreamiest look on her face. "Isn't it gorgeous?"

"Yeah, it is. You want to duplicate it so I have one? I'm kidding!" Angelina held up her arms in defeat, and Cora settled down, hanging the dress up carefully on her four-poster bed hangings.

"What do you think we'll be needing it for?" she asked, and Angelina pressed her finger to her chin.

"Maybe…There will be a dance of some sort! It did say to bring dress robes, so maybe it's important."

"Oh, okay then," Cora sighed and turned away from the dress, picking up her homework from her defence lesson. "We should get started on this."

"What, why?" Angelina asked, furrowing her brow at the other girl. "It isn't due until next week."

"Yes, but we've also got homework from several other teachers, and it's about time we actually started or it's just gonna keep piling up, and up, and _up_. Do you want that to happen?"

Angie sighed and shook her head, slumping down on her bed and pulling out parchment, and a quill and inkpot. "Where should we start?" she asked.

"How about, the Imperious," Cora suggested. "That one only requires a few dot points on what you know about it, and then let's do the Cruciatius, then the Avada Kedavra."

"Sure," Angelina said, and they both want to work, the scratching of the quills on parchment allowing no time for talk.

A few hours later, Alecia came up and started working with them, until they were all completely finished.

"Merlin, it's only seven o'clock," Angelina said, looking down at her watch. "You wanna start on the other homework, or go down stairs and play chess."

"Chess, definitely Chess," Cora and Alecia said in unison, and they packed up their things.

They walked down to the Common Room, ignoring the sound of everyone else as the first years on the lounge scampered away in fright.

"Who wants to play?" Angie asked, but all they did was slump down in the arm chairs and talk quietly to each other. Cora was just telling Alicia about her new dress when she was crushed underneath someone.

"My darling Cora, where have you been?" Lee said dramatically, wrapping his arm around her neck like he was some sort of damsel in distress.

"Get off! Your fat ass is crushing me!" Cora yelled, trying to kick him off of her as she felt her distress rising. Not many people knew this about her, but she was extremely claustrophobic. The only thing she was really comfortable with was when she was with George.

"Come on, Lee, get off," Fred said, coming up behind them with a slightly worried glance as he noticed Cora's distress.

Lee finally complied, rolling off her into the floor. Cora jumped up and shook herself, feeling as though if anyone touched her she would scream.

"Don't you ever do that again!" she yelled at him, then turned and hurried towards the portrait hole, anger blurring her vision.

She hurried down the corridors, luck being on her side given she didn't run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, and collapsed against a wall in the secret passage way that had caved in. It was big enough that she wouldn't be seen if someone looked in, but still Filch didn't know about it. Which worked for her.

Even though, this space was still too small, and her breathe was escaping her chest in frantic gasps as she threw her hands over her face and peered through her fingers. So she did the only thing that would make her comfortable.

With a scrunch of her face and the tense of her body, a cat sat in her place, completely black apart from the green tips around her face. She lay down on the rough stone floor and closed her eyes, still breathing shakily but feeling immensely better.

But then she heard footsteps pattering down the corridor, and she lunged to her paws, a growl building in her throat. But she settled down as George pulled open the tapestry covering the tunnel and peered down at her.

"Cora?" he whispered down to her, then glancing either side of him, he stepped into the tunnel and lent down to pick her up. "What are you doing here? And like that?" he asked.

Cora reared up onto her hind legs and placed her paws against George's neck, feeling his pulse under her little toes that thumped throughout her whole feline body.

"Peace," She said, her voice rasping slightly given she was using a cat's mouth to talk.

"Change back."

"No."

"Please."

"Fine."

She jumped from his hands, and mid-air transformed back to human, keeping her back turned to him and crossing her arms.

"What's wrong with you?" George asked, not unkindly.

"Nothing, just a tad claustrophobic, you know, nothing major, Hehe?" she ranted frantically, glancing from side to side.

"I didn't know you were claustrophobic," George said, taking a step forwards to touch her arm lightly.

"Not many people do, so do try not to tell anyone," Cora replied, finally turning to face him.

He frowned at her, "Why? Wait never mind… Just come here." He opened his arms to hold her, and she walked forwards to be enveloped by his warm hug.

"What happened to you at lunch?" he asked. "Was it something Cedric said?"

Cora froze, then wished she didn't, knowing that George now knew that was definitely the problem.

"It's nothing really, we just made a deal. If his name comes out of the Goblet of Fire, then we'll go on a date, if my does we won't, and if neither do then we'll go as friends. It doesn't mean anything really."

But George obviously didn't think so. He let go of her, and stepped back, glaring down at her in confusion.

"You're going out with Cedric?" he asked, evidently not bothering to ask about anything else.

"No, we'll just have one date if his name comes out," Cora tried to explain, smiling hopefully at him. But it apparently didn't justify her actions. "George?"

"So what you're saying is that you'll happily go out with Cedric for some stupid deal. A you a slut or something?"

Cora froze yet again, her head rising slowly so she could turn her furious burning glare on his face. He seemed to be just as shocked as her, his eyes wide and mouth agape in astonishment.

"Cora I didn't-"

CRACK! Her hand smashed across his face like a whip, and she, breathing heavily, felt a tear curve down her check.

"If you don't want me seeing Cedric, then at least give me a reason not too, because it seems you'll never take me out."

She left the tunnel, leaving George shell-shocked behind her. She had just turned a corner however, when a hand was placed on her shoulders and she stopped.

"Go to Hogsmeade with me, Cora."

She smiled slightly, turned and pressed her lips once to George's. "Of course, my love."

She turned back and walked away with a bright smile on her face.

o.O

Later that night, Cora struggled for sleep, tossing and turning under her covers, trying to relax and get comfortable. The other girls were sleeping, their breezy snores filling the room, making it even more impossible for her to fall unconscious.

She turned onto her side so she could stare out the window, right at the full moon. Remus would be going through his transformation that night, and she couldn't help but feel guilty that she couldn't be there.

She pulled herself up, throwing the covers off her and standing so she could pull on her jumper and grab her wand. It was starting to get cold out, and she could already feel her feet and hands growing numb as she walked down the stairs to the common room.

She slumped down on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table so the dying fire could help warm them, and lay her head against the back of the couch so she could settle.

"Cora?"

She jumped upwards, and spun around, pointing her wand at the direction the voice came from.

"Relax Cora, it's me, Fred." He stepped forwards so he was in the light. "George told me what happened. So he finally asked you out?"

"Yeah, Godric knows it's taken him forever," she said with a smile.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "He was wondering why you didn't come up the dorm tonight?"

Cora glanced up at him. "Well, I don't have nightmares any more, and I thought he'd want his space."

Fred laughed sarcastically. "Trust me, he's really rather you were there."

Cora turned to stare at them then, with a grin on her face, she jumped up and ran to the sixth year boys dormitories.

**Done finally. Sorry about the wait, but I haven't been writing much since I got back from my holiday to London. Love you lots, and the next chapter shouldn't take as long.**

**Althea **


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